Sideways and Upside Down
by Marjorie K. Place
Summary: A series of Tags or Drabbles from the Baitfish/More Now. Based on the quote from Agent Percy: Chris LaSalle is the only man you need when a job goes sideways. Chp13: LaSalle sells his soul and Pride must make a deal with the devil to get it back.
1. Chapter 1: Sideways

_Chris LaSalle: first one through the door and the last man out. He's the only man you want when a job goes sideways. –Agent Sonja Percy_

Sideways and Upside down, Agent Percy thought as she dodged a hail of bullets to take cover behind a row of storage containers. It's been exactly 18 minutes since her cover has been blown and she knows for all practical purposes it's over. Paul Jenks and his syndicate of men are going to kill her.

She and NCIS Agent, Chris LaSalle were pinned down, trapped, being fired upon. At last count, it's about half a dozen against the two of them.

"We have to move!" LaSalle tells her, noting that the storage containers they chose are actually filled with some sort of highly flammable material.

Sonja returns fire and ducks behind one the containers. "Just where do you suggest we move to?"

Chris reloads quickly and stands to fire, taking out one of their men. But for every man they take down one more appears. That's the problem when dealing with an entire syndicate. They seem to have an endless supply of mercenaries.

Chris crouches back down. "There's a set of concrete pillars to the west, from there we can try to make it into the warehouse." Hopefully that will buy them some time until backup can arrive.

Sonja looks at him. "Cover me on the count of three!"

Chris gives her a simple nod." 1"

Sonja "2"

In unison they look at each other. "3!"

Chris jumps to his feet and fires off three shots before turning and hauling ass after the fiery agent. Sonja is safely behind the pillar when he slides in behind her, breathing hard.

Sonja glances at him before firing at a group of men a few yards out. No matter how much they run, they are still out numbered. "You sound tired."

"I'm just getting warmed up," On his feet, Chris takes a stance and fires into two of the flammable containers, igniting a small inferno.

Sonja's big dark eyes went wide. "What did you do that for?"

"Deterrent," Chris answers as the flames begin to form a wall between them and the syndicate. He has just bought them enough time to get inside the warehouse for cover.

A good idea but the men on the other side haven't let up. They are still firing at them despite the flames. Together, he and Sonja stand and return fire, before they take off running again. Sonja is the first to reach the large aluminum door. As she begins to tug on it, a sniper on the roof sets her in his sights and commits to firing.

"Percy!" Chris yells, firing at the man on the roof.

Before Sonja can turn away, LaSalle crushes into her, pushing them both through the small opening she has made in the doorway. Sonja meets the concrete first, with LaSalle landing solidly on top of her. Before she regains her bearings he rolls over onto his back with a groan.

Springing to her feet, she closes the door and punches in a key code to lock it. "I think you dislocated my shoulder!" she groans, looking over to LaSalle. He's still flat on his back, knees bent upward toward the ceiling.

"I can fix that," he quips as his com suddenly crackles to life.

"Christopher, I need a status report," Pride's voice echoes from the acoustics' of the hollow room.

A pause lapses as Chris attempts to catch his breath.

"Christopher!" Pride's voice echoes.

It's then that Sonja sensed that their entire situation has just changed. For some reason, LaSalle is not eager to answer, nor is he in a hurry to get up. Crossing over to him, she offers him a hand and helps him to a seated position.

"Christopher, answer me damn it!" Pride's voice roars into the earpiece.

Chris swallows and then takes in another breath as Percy begins to work on his Kevlar. "We're good, King! We're in trouble though."

"Brody and I are about 8 minutes out," Pride's voice comes back. "Just hang tight until we get there."

"Roger that, King."

Pushing the Kevlar, from his shoulders, Percy realizes the reason he can't seem to catch his breath. There's blood blossoming onto shirt. Peeking over his shoulder, she notices the same spot on his back. The bullet had gone all the way through and was lodged in the front of the Kevlar.

LaSalle had taken a bullet that was meant for her.

"Those bastards are using armor piercing rounds." She hissed. "And you just lied to your boss!"

"King'll get over it." Chris returned.

Sonja removes her jean vest and presses it to his wounded shoulder. It wouldn't provide much help but it was better than nothing "Pride might but I won't."

So, you'd rather be the one who got shot?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Sonja answers quickly. "I'm just worried, that you might slow me down."

"Pfft…If you think I'm slowin' you down, you've got another thing comin,'" Chris flashes his famous grin, the one that she has heard so much about.

A wide grin spreads to Sonja's face. "Chris LaSalle, a man with a plan."

Chris attempts to reload his weapon but fails miserably, forcing Sonja to do it for him. "Right now, the plan is to move away from this aluminum door. Once they figure out how to get around the fire, they'll be running up our asses again."

Sonja grins and hands him back his gun before helping to his feet. "Who knows maybe this time, we'll be the ones runnin' up theirs."

"I like the way you think," Chris grinned as she helped him to his feet and slid her arm around his torso for support.

"You'd better not bleed out or pass out on me, LaSalle," she quipped as a spray of bullets peppered the large rollaway door. Jenks's men had once again found their way to them. It wouldn't be long before they were inside.

Moving toward the center of the room, the two agents situated themselves in the middle of several large pallets filled with Jenks's special street version of oxy. If they shot through it, they would ruin their stash.

"How much do you think is here?" Chris grimaced as he pulled out his pocket knife and cut through the plastic coating prompting a waterfall effect of white power to spill out onto the floor. When it was empty, Chris discarded the empty packaging and then repeated the process three more times, creating a perfect vantage point. He could easily use the opening he'd made as a view point to the entire front half of the warehouse.

"About a hundred grand," Sonja answered as Chris turned off his com. He couldn't take the chance that Pride or Brody might accidently give their location away.

The eight minutes that Pride had quoted him seem to move painstakingly slow as Jenks's men began to overtake the warehouse.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Sonja asked keeping her weapon trained. From where she stood she could easily pick off the scout that had been sent to flesh them out. The only problem being that it would cause a domino effect. The other 12 would come running. The best plan of action was to keep their position as long as possible, retaliating only when absolutely necessary.

"It's never let me down yet," Chris was starting to feel woozy uncertain of how much longer he was going to last. Sweat was beginning to form on his brow at an alarming rate. His adrenaline rate was starting to drop.

"C'mon King." The sounds of sirens were heard faintly in the distance. Chris knows that they are still too far out to matter if the men that are pooling just yards from them discover their presence. He's down to his last clip. Even if he and Percy were able to take out the mob in front of them, he wouldn't have enough bullets to bring down the army that was lurking outside.

"I've got two on my side!" Percy tells him as the sirens draw closer.

Chris looks out the opening he has so expertly created and notes two more men. They are carrying automatic weapons which have him wishing for his rifle. His SigPro is good but it doesn't stand a chance against rapid fire weapons.

"I can take them!" She starts to move and Chris feels his heart begin to accelerate.

"We need to wait for King!" he reaches out grabbing at her shirt, only to have her slip through his grasp. Outside, he hears the skid of tires followed by gunfire.

Sonja jumps out into plain sight, firing her weapon and hits her two targets and Chris knows he has no choice but to join her. Unfortunately, he can't move fast enough. He can only watch as she turns right into their path taking one bullet to the leg, while a second one bounces off of her skull.

"Christopher!" Pride shouts as the two remaining men begin to advance.

"King!" he shouts, firing though his handmade view point. He knows that if they want him they are going to have shoot right through their dope to get him. Hearing a hollow moan, he glances at Sonja's limp body. She's starting to move.

Fear rips through him as he steps out to cover her, knowing that she probably won't survive another direct hit. Deftly, he manages to step over her still form as if to form a barrier as bullets whiz past him. Returning fire as fast as he can, Chris doesn't notice the bullet that clips his side. He manages to take down one of the remaining men as Pride and Brody enter the room along with several officers from NOPD.

Together, Pride and Brody fire, taking down the last mercenary and for a second, Chris LaSalle is the last man standing.

The battle is over. He has won he thought as his body begins to give out.

"Chris!" he hears both Pride and Brody call out for him, but he's too far gone to respond. He wakes up briefly in the ambulance. Brody is holding his hand. King is saying something to him, but he isn't able to comprehend.

He wakes up again on the way to the O.R. King is running beside the gurney telling him to hold on.

Over the course of the next 24 hours, Chris feels Brody's presence. He can feel the warmth of her hand as it slips in and out with his. The scent of her perfume helps him fight through the haze and brings him closer to consciousness.

She tells him repeatedly that she wants her partner back.

From time to time he hears, Cade reading to him from J.D. Salinger.

Loretta's voice fades in and out as well as she tries to tempt him back to life with the promise of her famous Bloody Mary.

Agent Percy berates him with threats of ruining his reputation and threatens to kick his ass if he doesn't recover. She's constantly reminding him of what her friend, little BB, told her about the being the best lawman she'd ever worked with and the only guy you need when things go sideways. She says her friend was not wrong.

Given what he's been through, the term sideways now has a new meaning.

Ross P stops by and tells him that he has earned whole new reputation on the streets. Chris is now a force to be reckoned with.

But the strongest presence of all is King. He's the Elephant in the room that never leaves. He's doesn't say much but Chris knows he's there: waiting, without judgement. King knows that if he were in the same situation that it wouldn't have played out any different. Baitfish is still in control of the city, his syndicate growing stronger every day. However, Agent Percy is alive.

When Chris finally awakes, King is there playing on a portable keyboard. For several seconds, Chris just listens trying to gather cohesive thought.

"Hey King," he manages groggily.

Pride stops playing and immediately puts the key board aside. "It's a beautiful day for some Louis isn't it?"

"Guess so," Chris replies indifferent. If King is playing a keyboard in the hospital that his stress level must be through the roof. He knows that he really scared the shit out of King this time.

Pride stands and reaches for the bedside chair pulling it closer. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Chris closes his eyes for a moment. "Bullets, lot of em."

King offers him a lazy smile. "It was close this time, real close."

"I know, I was there," Chris responds wearily. "But Percy's cover was blown. There was nothin' I could do."

Pride debated about using the words _you could have waited for back up_ but then thought better of it. Chris had taken a risk and it had paid off not only did he save agent Percy's life but he'd taken out several of Baitfish's men and prevented a hundred thousand dollars' worth of poisoned Oxy from hitting the streets.

"There's always something you can do." Pride returned in a fatherly fashion.

"I just did what you always taught me to do," Chris countered, knowing that King was the reason that Sonja Percy was able to speak her iconic words. He'd been watching and learning from the man for over a decade now.

King reached over and ruffed the younger agent's hair, "You did a good job, Chris, real good."


	2. Chapter 2: Brody's POV

**A/N: This is Brody's POV to Sideways and Upside Down.**

**A/N II: I blame Child of Loki for this and her story Intimate'. Here's some aftermath for you, friend! **

**Look at me**

Meredith Brody looked down at her unconscious partner and sighed. It's been nearly two days since she has seen those ridiculously gorgeous deep blue eyes of his and she's starting to worry.

Two days ago her partner took several bullets in effort to save Agent Sonja Percy's life after her cover had been blown. Luckily for Sonja, Chris's efforts were not in vain.

Brody however, can't help but feel a bit of contempt for the woman. The fact that the agent chose to willingly step out into the line of fire when she knew they were outnumbered had nearly cost Chris his life and may even still.

The doctor said he should make a full recovery, but he has yet to show any sign of that. Rapid eye movement and the occasional twitch of his hand are the only indications he has given that he is still willing to fight.

So, yes for the moment, Brody hates this woman. She hates the fact that Sonja Percy only took a bullet in the leg and was barely winged with another. Sonja is now up and about while Chris has yet to even give her one inkling of hope that he's going to come back from this.

Most of all she hates the fact that Chris chose to act out on his own rather than waiting for backup. Why couldn't he have just waited those 8 minutes? How is she supposed to have his back when he won't wait for her? They are supposed to be partners and he left her behind to go off and save some federal agent who has connections to Paul Jenks.

Because he's Chris she reminds herself, taking a hold of his hand to study his long slender fingers before lacing them with her own. Placing his hand into hers helps to quell her uncontrollable anger for the moment as she feels him reacting to her touch with a slight squeeze.

According to the doctor, the slight squeeze is just an involuntary reaction. What she wants the most is to see his eyes, those damn mesmerizing ocean colored irises that she has to stop herself from constantly dreaming about. She wants to see them staring intently into hers as if to say I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.

She'll never forget the vacant look she saw in them when she and Pride first found him on the ground, bleeding out. It was the look of someone who was slipping away.

For a couple of minutes in the ambulance he'd managed to make an effort to focus on she and Pride in a sickly kind of way, but in the end, he'd allowed the darkness to win. Merri had to give to him that one she supposed given that at the time his insides were attempting to escape through the bullet hole in his abdomen.

But now, the fact that he was refusing to open them and look at her was unacceptable.

How could he just lie there leading her on like this? It was bad enough that he cheated on her with Agent Percy in a standoff but now this was just pure torture. Didn't he know how much he meant to her? Didn't he know how much he was scaring her with the notion that his life was ebbing away.

How could he not know how much she needed him?

How could he be doing this to her?

Releasing his hand, she touched the side of his face with the back of her hand. The hair on his cheek felt rough against her skin. After two days, maybe closer to three, Chris is sporting more than a five O'clock shadow and in desperate need of a shave.

"Just look at me please," she pleads as tears threaten to fall from her lashes. She's never lost a partner Colleagues, yes, but never a partner. In fact she's never had a partner due to her constant need for relocating.

Damn it. She hates herself for becoming so emotional. But he can't help it. Chris LaSalle is the closest thing she has to a best friend. He's her partner, her everything, the only one who truly gets her. Swiping at her face, she pulls to her feet and turns toward the window, crossing her arms angrily over her chest.

Damn you, Chris LaSalle for making me feel this way. Damn you, for being my partner and Damn you for getting shot! Damn me for ever laying eyes on you. She is so busy with her own self-loathing that she almost doesn't hear the slight moan coming from the bed.

Whirling around, she sees Chris's brow beginning to furrow and her heart begins to thump with excitement. He's waking up! The time that it takes for his irises to come into view seems like an eternity, but when they do they are the most beautiful sight Merri Brody has ever seen. They are hazy and confused at first, but she can see them and that's all that matters. Her partner is back!

"Chris? Look at me." she says in effort to get him to focus as his eye lids begin to droop. She doesn't want to take the chance that he might slip away again. If he does he might not come back.

His lips part to speak but a quick touch of her index finger silences any sound he might want to make.

"Just look at me." Brody says, staring intently and intimately into his eyes, gazing at those deep blue irises that she has missed so much.


	3. Chapter 3: Sacrifice

**Just a reminder, these are drabbles so one chapter is not necessarily related to another, but they all revolve around the same basic theme. This chapter however was getting a little long so I have decided to split it into two parts. It's an action piece/team centered fic so there is a mild warning for violence. **

**Sacrifice part 1**

Dwayne Pride knew he could count on Chris LaSalle for just about anything. Without question Chris would follow him through hell and back with no questions asked. Chris was the only one he trusted with his life and the lives of his family. It wasn't that he didn't trust Meredith Brody per say. Brody was new to their team. She was still learning their ways. With Chris there was 10 years of trust and friendship. The thirty year age difference doesn't seem to matter. They were so in sync with one another, their habits, their thoughts. Pride knew all of Chris's moves even before he made them and vice versa. Pride didn't even need to speak, Chris just knew. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that he'd started grooming Christopher at a young age and the fact that Chris seemed to have a natural talent for law enforcement. No matter the task, Chris will always come through. Together they are an unbeatable team.

Unfortunately for Chris, Pride's enemies know this too.

* * *

"Chris, please tell me what is going on!" Laurel Pride begged as Chris helped her from his truck and guided her by the elbow to the front steps of safe house 30 miles outside of Baton Rouge. Laurel had been in the middle of a music theory exam when Chris appeared and escorted from class.

Assuming the worst had happened, a sob ripped from the back of her throat. "Is my Dad, ok?"

I already told you, Shortcake, he's fine." he said using the pet name he'd given her when she was a child. Chris unlocked the door to the house and quickly cased the inside for any unwelcomed visitors. Human or otherwise. He then walked back to his truck and began to empty it of all of his weapons. He sensed it was going to be a long night.

Laurel touched his arm. She wanted or needed more answers. "Where is he?"

"He's at the Madison Parrish Prison with Agent Brody. He'll be here later tonight." Chris would leave out the part that Pride had gone to the prison to check out a lead on Baitfish and had ended up getting a tip that Paul Jenks had put out a hit on Laurel's life. So, Pride did the only thing he could. He asked Chris to protect her. The plan was that Chris would pick up Laurel and pack it in at the safe house until Pride and Brody returned. Then the three of them would make a plan to seek out the hit man and take care of Jenks once and for all.

"Something bad is going to happen isn't it?" Laurel asked looking at the weaponry that Chris had begun to organize and load.

Chris stopped what he was doing and cupped her face. Laurel wasn't a child anymore, he knew he could no longer hide things from her. However he didn't think he should be the one to tell her that she had become to the target of a professional killer due her father's actions against the local kingpin. "Who is the only guy besides your Dad that you can trust?"

"You" Laurel smiled at him. For as long as she could remember, Chris had been playing the part of her big brother and protector. He was always there for things that she couldn't share with her dad.

Chris gave her his best grin. "Ok, then it's settled. Nothin' bad is going to happen on my watch."

"So you still datin' that pretty red head you went to high school with?" Laurel asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Chris looked at her from the corner of his eye. "That is not a question you get to ask."

C'mon, Chris. I'm all grown up now. Besides, Merri thinks she's really good for you. "

"Does she now?" Chris rolled his eyes in time with his cell phone coming to life. Saved by the bell he thought. "Yeah, Pride. Uh huh, no I got her. She's here." He passed the phone over to Laurel. "It's your Daddy."

Chris checks the time as Laurel talks with her father. He knows that it will take Pride a good three hours plus to get to the safe house, maybe more given the condition of the back roads.

* * *

Night begins to fall over the cabin prompting Laurel to hug her arms.

"Ya cold?" Chris asked.

"A little." Laurel admits as he slips off his jacket and places it over her shoulders.

"I can make ya a fire if ya want one."

"Laurel smiles as she watches him kneel at the hearth and place a couple of logs into the fireplace. "Hey, do you remember that time you picked me up from Sheryl Harper's party?

Chris doesn't recall the name. "I remember picking you up from a party and you getting sick all over my truck," he replies tossing some kindling over the logs.

Laurel feels a blush start to creep across her cheeks. She was just 14 years old and it had been her first high school party. Like most young kids she had let things get out of control. Too scared to call her dad, she decided to take a chance and try Chris. Ever the knight in shining armor, he'd come to her aid without any questions asked.

"Did you ever tell my Dad about that?" Laurel asked pulling his jacket a little bit tighter across her shoulders.

Chris glanced over his shoulder as the fire begins to crackle. "Did you?"

Laurel sucked in a breath in jest. "Not yet."

Chris pursed his lips together trying to suppress a grin. To be a teenager again or in Laurel's case a young adult teen which was a scary in its own right he thought as his stomach let out a rueful growl.

"You hungry?" he asked, preparing to move for the kitchen until a glint of light from outside caught his attention. "Get away from the window" he barked drawing his sidearm in time with a flash grenade coming through the window.

"Get Down!" In one swift movement, Chris fired off two shorts before engulfing Laurel and sending her to the floor. Within seconds a respiratory irritant filled the room. Return fire ensued, forcing Chris to weight their options.

Get shot or choke on fumes and pass out? It seemed to be a no win situation. Most of the time, he enjoyed a good life or death challenge as twisted as it sounded. There was just something about it that got his adrenaline going, and promoted a natural high. He'd supposed he could call himself an over the top risk taker due to the nature of his job. But today was different. He had Laurel to think about. She was Pride's everything.

"C'mon, we have to move." He told Laurel as he rose to a crouching position and took her hand, dragging her toward the back of the cabin. "Cover your face!"

Laurel coughed as she inhaled the toxic fumes, stumbling at the force of Chris's movements. He's moving so fast she can hardly keep up. He shoulders the back door, still holding tight to her hand and gun in the other.

A gunman appears on the lawn several yards out, forcing them back into the house. Chris diverts and heads for the master bedroom. Once inside, Chris makes a quick survey and decides upon the walk in closet which has access to the attic crawl space. Chris tugs on the cord and pulls down the ladder.

"Get up there," he tells Laurel, before taking her phone "and don't come down until you hear from me or your dad."

"What about you?" Laurel's voice is filled with fear. She already knows his answer. Tears begin to cloud her eyes, her voice begins to choke. "No, Chris, please don't leave me here."

Chris swallows back the lump in his throat, knowing that he doesn't have a choice. Laurel is the one and only thing that Pride can't live without. His job is to protect her no matter the cost. "Remember, no one but me or your dad." He then seals up the crawl space and heads out to meet his fate.

* * *

Laurel covers her ears as the sound of gunfire erupts throughout the house, her entire body quivering with fear. She's so consumed with terror that she can hardly breathe. Long after the shooting stops she continues to tremble. Time is either moving painfully slow or ridiculously fast, without her phone it's hard to tell. She wonders why Chris took it.

Part of her wonders if Chris is still alive. Its been quite since the shooting stopped, but he hasn't come to get her so she can only assume the worse. It isn't until she hears the sound of her father's voice that she starts to feel hope.

"Daddy!"

"Laurel, thank God." Dwayne Pride prays as he holds onto his one and only child thanking the Lord that she is free from harm. "Are you okay?" he clutches her face before inspecting every inch of her petite form.

"Yes, Chris..he..he kept me safe," she hiccups as he father presses her into his chest.

Pride holds her for several more moments until the sound of Brody's voice fills his Bluetooth. "Pride, I searched the entire perimeter. There's no sign of Chris."

* * *

Outside, Merri Brody looks down at the dead body that Chris has so eloquently left for them to find and wonders how many gunmen there were total. Shifting her gaze, she looks at Chris's truck, noting that it is peppered up pretty good. The inside of the cabin is no better, windows are blown out and the furniture is riddled with bullet holes.

She wonders how her partner fared in all of this. If Chris had been victorious he would be here. He would have never left Laurel up in the crawl space for Pride to find if he were able. Something has happened. Did he go after another gunman? Was he captured? Shot? Her mind begins to run rapid with possibilities, all of which are unacceptable.

"Where are you?" she says looking out into the vast darkness of trees. The sound of Pride's voice, calling her inside tears her away from her thoughts. Trudging up the front steps, she meets Pride in the living room and notes the rifle in his hand.

"Stay with Laurel. Keep her in the bedroom. I don't want her seeing any of this," he tells her. Judging by Pride's tone she knows he's intent on going after Christopher, alone.

"Pride," she counters, her tone hindering on insubordination. _Chris is her partner_. If something has happened...

"Brody, I need you here. Laurel's life could still in danger."

Brody lowers her eyes before conceding. She knows she has no choice. "Of course," she swallows, resigned. "Just bring Chris home."

Pride looks at her and nods. There's no way he can come back without Chris. Aside from Brody, Laurel would never forgive him. Especially not after today. Hell, he would never forgive himself if anything were to happen to the younger man.

Chris is more than family.


	4. Chapter 4: The Bait

**A/N: This chapter found a life of it's own and has grown to be way more than what I even intended.** **It is still the continuation of chp 3 (Sacrifice) but has been retitled. Not really much of a drabble, but I'm going to roll with it. Hope y'all will too. ** **The ending is solid btw, no cliffy this time.**

**A/N II: I have decided to take request prompts if anyone has a Chris centered scene they would like to see played out in drabble or two-shot let me know. **

Mild Warning for a tiny bit of course language.

**The Bait Part I**

Blindfolded and bound, Chris willingly takes the beating of his life. It's the price he has to pay for trading his life for Laurels. But at the same time he's relieved. Laurel is at the safe house where he left her waiting for Pride. Taking Laurel's phone had definitely been a plus when it came convincing Jenk's men that he had used it as a deco. It wasn't hard to figure out that they were tracking Laurel through her phone. In fact, he kicked himself for not realizing it sooner.

What he hadn't counted on however was getting clocked in the head during the middle of a gun fight.

From across the room, Paul Jenks pondered as he watched his men beat the shit out his captive. Chris LaSalle isn't Laurel Pride and that angers him. But he can still use LaSalle to make a point. It won't be quite as much fun as turning Pride's daughter into a crack whore and feeding her to the streets. But there are others ways to hurt Pride. Losing his number one might not cause him as much pain as losing his daughter but he can certainly slow down his old nemesis and make him think twice about trying to take down his operation.

Bored with watching LaSalle's head get kicked back and forth like a soccer ball, Jenk's commanded his men to stop.

Chris hears the sound of a gun being drawn and his heart stops. Somehow he didn't think the end would come so soon. Bracing himself, he hears the gun go off followed by the thud of a body. A second shot goes off and Chris knows his turn is coming. He never imagined that he would go down this way, but he's ready. He knows that Pride will look after Cade and that he will tell his Mom and his sister that he died honorably.

He felt the warm and rancid breath of his killer against the side of his face as Jenks leaned over to whisper something in his ear. "Don't worry, Boy. The real fun is just beginning. When I finish with you you're going wish you never heard the name Dwayne Cassius Pride."

A sinking feeling begins to form in Chris's stomach as he realizes that he's just become the new bait in Jenk's plan to draw Pride out.

* * *

Twenty Four hours later, Pride and Percy stand in the middle of one of Jenk's known hideouts, near the river, looking down at a couple of dead bodies.

Percy kneels down for a closer look. "These are most likely the men, Jenks sent after your daughter." She recognizes them from her previous dealings with Baitfish.

"Are they the men that took Chris?"

Percy nods as she rises to her feet. "My guess is they've handed him off to Jenks."

"And Jenks killed them for not bringing him Laurel." Pride finished. His guess is that LaSalle was still alive but for what purpose he didn't know, other than the obvious. Jenks wanted Pride to suffer.

Reaching for his phone, he debates about trying to arrange protective custody for Laurel. He knows that just because Baitfish has Chris doesn't mean he still wouldn't come after Laurel or for that matter Linda.

Linda he sighed. She would be devastated if anything were to happen to Chris. Eternally grateful for saving Laurel's life, but nevertheless, she like Pride thought of Chris as a part of their immediate family.

Pride dropped the phone to his side as he was approached by a uniformed officer. In the man's hands are Chris's NCIS credentials. "We found these floating in the river."

A pause lapses as Pride feels his stomach twist.

"You want us to start dragging the river, sir?" the officer adds meekly.

"No," he replied earning a stunned look from Percy. "Jenks is not going to kill Chris that easily."

"He baiting you," Sonja says. "And it's working."

"Right now, I don't care." Pride starts to move away from her. "I just need you to show me every place you ever worked with Jenks."

"He's not going to be hiding LaSalle anywhere near his old stomping grounds," Percy starts to argue. Jenks was too smart for that. Even since her cover was blown, he's pulled up operations and moved elsewhere.

"He'll leave clues," Pride counters holding up Chris's badge. "He'll want me to be the one to find Christopher." This Pride knew for a fact. His plan to kidnap and do God knows what to Laurel blown, King wouldn't be surprised, if Jenks paraded Chris around through the streets and strung him on display.

"He's leaving you clues to find a dead body." Percy said, trying not to sound too nonchalant about it. She was rooting for Pride to find Chris, but at the same time she was realist and knew that Paul Jenks wouldn't hesitate to gut the young agent should the chance arise.

"And for the moment, I'm going to follow them," Pride said with conviction. "You can either follow them with me or you can get the hell out my way. With or without you, I will find LaSalle."

"I never said, I didn't want to help you find LaSalle," the portly agent replied curt as Pride's cell phone buzzed to life.

It was Brody she was calling to say that Patton had just received a hit on Chris's service weapon. A pawn shop owner in Baton Rouge had inquired about the serial number on the weapon and was in the process of trading it for cash.

"Have Patton instruct him to make the transaction but get an address." Pride told her.

"Already done," Brody replied. "The address that came up is an old warehouse in the 9th ward. I can meet you there in twenty minutes."

"Make it fifteen."

* * *

Pride turned his ball cap around as he, Brody and Percy entered the warehouse with weapons drawn. Inching forward, they found the remains of a drug lab that had been recently used, most likely to cook up a batch of poisoned oxy. Cautiously, they continued to move until Brody's eye caught something on the floor.

"I've got an empty syringe."

"Bag it and we'll have it sent to the lab," Pride instructed as he and Percy continued onward until they met a gristly sight: blood and lots of it. The word Baitfish was written on the south wall.

"Do you think that belongs to-" Percy started only to have Pride cut her off.

"No" Pride said quickly. He refused to believe that the blood in question was LaSalle's. If it were then that would mean that the young agent was no longer on this Earth and that was not an option that he was willing to accept.

"How can you be sure?"

"I just know," Pride returned holstering his weapon as Percy's eyes landed on a metal style brief case. Curious, she crossed over to it and touched the tabs, causing it to spring open. Her eyes widened in horror, as they roamed across several rows of C4 connected to a timer.

"BOMB!" Whirling around, she took off in dead run trailing Brody and Pride. The trio had just made it out of the building when the bomb blew, sending pieces of hot flaming debris raining down upon them.

* * *

"Ow!" Chris rose up and hit his head on something hard as the sound of the explosion broke him free of a drug induced sleep. Still blindfolded and bound it was difficult to tell where he was exactly but he had the sensation of motion. The trunk of a car maybe? After the hellacious beating he'd taken and whatever fucked up drugs they gave him he couldn't be certain. For all he knew, his mind could just be playing tricks on him.

Nope, he was definitely moving he concluded as the vehicle spun around to hard stop which prompted his battered body to be tossed about the small confined space like a racquetball. His stomach started to roll violently as the car tore down a side road before finally coming to another quick stop.

Outside, Baitfish stood his hand placed firmly on top of the trunk of his Dodge Charger, admiring his handy work. "It's your lucky day, Christopher. Looks like your friends are little more intuitive than I thought," he sneered watching as the three agents went sprawling onto the concrete as a result of the little surprise he had left for them.

"Aw, Pride looks a little disappointed," Baitfish continued. "But don't worry, I'll get him eventually and then I'll probably wind up killin' that pretty little daughter of his too."

More than a few choice words permeated from inside the trunk along with the sound of limbs thrashing up against the metal hood, prompting Jenks to believe the captive agent was throwing a tantrum.

"I'd save my oxygen if I were you. You're gonna need it!" Jenks taunted, giving the hatch of the trunk a good drum roll.

* * *

Inside the trunk, Chris was absolutely livid that he was so helpless. Wresting around he managed to turn his body so that he was almost forced into the fetal position with his feet facing the backseat. Bracing his shoulders up against the hatch he began to kick at the backseat for all that it was worth.

In any other situation the seat would have collapsed. But not this time. Baitfish had seen to that.

Breathing hard, Chris repositioned himself so that his head was aligned with the passenger's side door.

He didn't know what on God's green Earth was going to happen next but there was truth in the oxygen statement. If he didn't settle down he was going to run out of air. As it was his lungs were already starting to burn.

He needed a plan. Calm down and learn things a little voice said. Ironically, the voice sounded just like King which made him think that he was hallucinating. He tried to think back to the last he'd been locked inside a trunk. It had been a while but it had happened. There had been a release lever on the left hand side of the vehicle near the brake light.

If only he had the use of his hands he thought waiting for Jenks to get back into the car. He waited until the car was back in motion before he started rooting around in effort to break the zip ties that were binding his wrists.

If he positioned the lock just right he might be able to use his backside as leverage. It was worth a try. Struggling, he groaned as the zip ties cut into his wrists, breaking the skin. It had taken several attempts but after a while the plastic finally started to give and the lock broke.

Success was his as he reached up and tore the blindfold away from his eyes. Not that he could see through the pitch black darkness of the trunk, but at least it was less constricting. Using the heel of his boot, Chris started to kick at the back tail light until he heard it shatter.

For several moments he just laid there gasping as fresh oxygen flowed through the tiny opening. He was almost there. The broken tail light provided just enough light for Chris to find the emergency trunk release. Reaching for the latch, he gave it a tug popping trunk the open as the car veered off of the main thoroughfare and onto a dirt road.

His only choice now was to jump or try to take on Baitfish when the car stopped, neither of which sounded viable. He was in no condition to fight he thought as the car hit a rock sending a white flash of pain through his broken body.

If he jumped he would more than likely become the hunted. Jenks would track him down like a rabid dog and put a bullet through his head before he could get very far.

No matter which option he chose, he was going to wind up a dead man. But if it kept Pride and Brody from walking into another trap it would be worth it.

* * *

Pride stared vacantly across the room looking at Chris's empty desk. He knew that every minute that ebbed by his odds of finding his protégé alive decreased. Percy was right, every clue that they followed lead them to straight into a potential death sentence.

"Here," Brody said, placing a plate in front of him. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry." he said, pushing the plate away. "Did you hear back from the lab yet?"

Brody frowned as she sank into the folding chair beside him. "The blood trace found on the syringe is definite match to Chris."

"What about the contents?"

"There was trace residue of Oxy and nine other potentially dangerous compounds," Brody answered watching Pride's face change.

Jenks own special blend.

"If Chris is still alive we will find him." Brody added softly.

"If?" Pride snapped harshly, prompting Brody to throw her hands up in defense.

"I'm sorry," Brody swallowed. She could hardly blame Pride for being more than a little edgy. "I didn't mean to say, if."

"It's okay." Pride returned, channeling his anger. "I know you and Christopher are close."

Brody gave a simple nod. Over the course of the last year, Chris had become more than just her friend. He was her partner in every sense of the word.

"You got any chips to go with this sandwich," he asked forcing a half smile.

"There's a new bag in the pantry."

Once Brody was gone, Pride raked his hand over his face. His entire team had nearly been taken out today. He didn't want to admit it but he was beginning to fear that he was going to lose Chris.

He was about to pull to his feet when his cell phone suddenly came to life sporting a blocked number.

_"_This is Pride."

"Open your back door," an unfamiliar voice replied.

Pride's eye brows pinched together. "Who is this?"

"You have a delivery," the voice said. "You want it or not?"

Drawing his weapon, he met Brody in the kitchen and instructed her to do the same. Together, they made their way to the back door where Pride then held up his fingers counting to three. Slowly, Brody opened the door, weapon trained.

Their eyes widened as their so called delivery came into view. Chris was slumped over looking like death warmed over, leaning on Ross P.

"I believe this belongs to you."


	5. Chapter 5: The Bait II

**A/N: I had hard time trying to figure out how to end this little adventure but I think it spirals back to what I began in Sacrifice. Mild warning for implied drug usage. **

**The Bait Part II**

_Once Brody was gone, Pride raked his hand over his face. His entire team had nearly been taken out today. He didn't want to admit it but he was beginning to fear that he was going to lose Chris._

_He was about to pull to his feet when his cell phone suddenly came to life sporting a blocked number._

_"This is Pride."_

_"Open your back door," an unfamiliar voice replied._

_Pride's brows pinched together. "Who is this?"_

_"You have a delivery," the voice said. "You want it or not?"_

_Drawing his weapon, he met Brody in the kitchen and instructed her to do the same. Together they made their way to the back door where Pride then held up his fingers counting to three. Slowly, Brody opened the door, weapon trained. _

_Their eyes widened as their so called delivery came into view. Chris was slumped barely able to stand, leaning on Ross P. for support._

_"I believe this belongs to you." The trusted CI quipped as his knees started to give out from taking on all of Chris's weight._

Pride immediately took the side opposite of Ross P and wrapped his arm around Chris' torso.

"Brody, get the first aid kit and call Loretta."

"On it."

"The boy jumped out of a movin' car. I wanted to drop him off the emergency room But he wouldn't hear of it. So, I brought him here." Ross P added as they helped Chris to the futon that Pride claimed as his own.

"Ya did good. We got it from here." Pride smiled as the CI exited as quickly as he had appeared.

"I called Loretta. She's on her way." Brody said as she handed Pride the first aid kit.

She looked down at her partner noting that he was trembling violently. Aside from the darkening bruises, Chris' forearms were nothing but shredded skin and blood from where he jumped more correctly fallen out of the trunk.

"Is Laurel ok?" he asked through chattering teeth.

Brody sank to her knees and ran her fingers through his short sweaty sprigs of hair. "She's fine, save for being placed in protective custody."

Chris managed a slight nod before squeezing his eyes shut in pain. Everything hurt and to top it off he was freezing. Whatever Jenks had been giving him was starting to wear off causing a brutal attack on his system.

Brody grabbed a blanket and threw it over the lower half of his body while Pride began to cut away his black t-shirt. Chris's torso and abdomen were littered with multiple contusions and bruises, matching the ones on his face. It didn't look like he had any internal injuries, but it without an expert opinion it was hard to tell.

"Check his neck and arms for puncture wounds," Pride ordered. He wanted to know exactly how many times that bastard had filled Chris's veins with that poisoned Oxy crap. Based on the fact that they had found a syringe and that Chris was shaking Pride suspected that there would be quite a few.

Brody ran fingers along the soft tissue of his neck, inspecting every inch of skin. "I've got two, maybe three," It wasn't enough to make Chris an addict, but it was sure making him sick."

By the time Loretta arrived, Chris was curled up almost into a ball. Stomach cramps had begun to set in forcing every single muscle in his body to constrict and knot up tight. Loretta tried to give him something to settle his stomach only to have her hands swatted away.

"Chris, let her help you," Brody moved to touch him, earning a sharp jab to the chest from his elbow. "Let. Her. Help. You." She repeated, pinning his shoulders to the mattress. Chris looked her with intense yet fearful eyes. He was so much pain that he couldn't think straight and the thought of someone jabbing him with another needle was sending him into overload.

"Don't make me use you my Aikido on you," she said with a soft smile.

For several seconds he focused on her big chocolate colored irises, before turning his head away grimacing in pain. She would never know how many times he thought about her over the last couple of days. Keeping she and Pride safe had been his only sense of motivation.

* * *

From the doorway, Pride watched as Loretta began to pick the gravel from Chris' torn flesh. The injured agent had road rash all over the place. What all had he been through? Drugged, beaten what the hell else? He knew that if he asked, Chris would never tell him. Making a fist, he pounded the door jam before stalking away.

* * *

Loretta scowled at her old friend as she came out from Pride's room.

"How's Christopher?" Pride asked while Brody looked on anxiously.

"I've done what I can but he needs to be in the hospital." The medical examiner said flatly. Aside from all of the contusions, torn flesh and bruising, Loretta suspected that the injured agent was experiencing some sort of toxic reaction from the chemicals that had been forced into his system.

"It's too risky." Pride argued knowing that Baitfish was probably still on the prowl. He could get to Chris in a hospital, but he wouldn't dare try to attack Pride here, not in his own sandbox. "I'll take care of Christopher my own way."

Loretta's eyes narrowed, slightly. She didn't like what Pride was proposing but given the fact that Chris didn't seem to have any life threatening injuries at the moment she would go along with it for now.

"And the other?" Pride added.

Loretta had drawn a few vials of Chris' blood to check for any foreign substances. "I should have the results of the toxicology report by morning. Until then, I gave him an injection of Phenegran. I also have him on 1000 ML of Levaquin and a saline drip.

"If it is as you suspect, I'll start a rapid detox treatment as soon as possible. But until then I want his temperature and his blood pressure checked and recorded every 3-4 hours. You'll also need to watch him for signs of seizures and convulsions."

"We can do that," Brody chimed in, as Loretta started for the door.

"I'll take the first watch," Pride said after seeing Loretta to her car.

Brody's raised her eyebrows causing her forehead to crinkle, "Are you sure because I don't mind."

"Get some rest," Pride smiled touching her shoulder. "I have a feeling that it's going to be another long night."

After Brody had retired to the couch in the conference room, Pride stepped back into the room off the kitchen where he slept and pulled up a chair next to the futon. For the moment, Chris appeared to be lucid so he needed to take advantage of it while he could.

"Christopher, I need you to listen to me," he said garnering the younger man's attention. "I need you to tell me everything you can about Jenks. Everything you saw, everything you heard."

Chris closed his eyes for moment and swallowed. Judging by the sound of Pride's voice the man was in obsessive mode. Not that he could blame the man. Jenks had now almost killed Laurel twice. He wouldn't be surprised if both he and Laurel ended up on the man's wall of crazy.

"I don't know, King." He said still shivering. "I was pretty much blindfolded the whole time. The only thing I remember is waking up in the trunk of a car. "

Pride tore his gaze away from his trusted friend. Chris was holding something back. "Why'd you call Ross P?"

Chris flicked his tongue over his lips. It hadn't been until after he'd fallen out of the car that he realized that he'd had his cell phone with him the entire time. It had been obviously ploy from Baitfish in effort to get Pride to come running. So, had the fact that Chris had rather easily been able to get away. Deep down Chris knew that Baitfish could have murdered him on the spot without so much as a blinking.

"I don't know," he lied, earning a murderous look from Pride.

King grabbed the young agent by the shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes. "After 10 years you don't know? You mean to tell me that after all we've been through you don't trust me enough to have your back when you're in trouble?"

"That ain't it, King," Chris's voice cracked.

Pride's eyes were still flashing with fire. "Then what?"

Chris hung his head, feeling as if he had somehow failed his friend. "He wanted you."

Pride wrapped a hand around Chris's neck and pulled him into his shoulder. He could tell that Chris was trying to keep it together but given all that he'd been through it wasn't working. The poor battered, sick agent was quickly turning into a hot mess.

"I'm sorry King. I was only tryin' to protect you and Laurel."

Of course, it wasn't Chris, it was Jenks. It was what he had been doing all along and unlike himself, Chris had refused to be the bait and had been protecting his family all along.

"Now don't forget, Brody and Linda, and Loretta and Sebastian," Pride grinned as the younger man hiccupped into his shoulder. King waited a few moments and then slapped the young agent on the back.

"Let's get some coffee in ya." He wasn't going to wait for Loretta to decide about so called rapid detox he was going to help Christopher through it the old fashioned way.

Coffee? This was going to suck.

* * *

The following morning Meredith Brody was awakened by the sound of Pride's snoring. My God the man had the power to wake up the entire city with that she thought pulling her pillow over her face. Then she remembered Chris. If she could hear Pride from all the way up in the conference room, then her partner mostly likely had it tenfold.

Dressing quickly she padded down to the kitchen and quietly entered the room where Chris was being sequestered.

Pride was sound asleep in the chair still sawing logs while Chris was lying on his back, with one hand tucked behind his head, staring straight up at the ceiling. Gently, she nudged the older agent, prompting his eyes to spring open. "Pride go get some rest. I got this."

"How did you sleep?" Brody asked quietly sliding down on the edge of the futon when Pride had left.

Chris turned his head toward her giving her a bewildered look. "Are ya kiddin' me? With all that ruckus goin' on?

"That's why I thought I'd come down and rescue you," Brody grinned as she reached for the tympanic thermometer and blood pressure cuff.

"God Bless Linda for putting up that for all those years." Chris said stifling a yawn. He was so damned tired but given all of the coffee that Pride had made him drink and the man's snoring, sleep was out of the question.

"Well I guess we don't have wonder why she left him," Brody quipped quickly taking Chris's vitals. She made a note to tell Loretta that his temperature was 101.5 and his blood pressure was just a little elevated.

Sobering, she placed her hand on his warm cheek. "You really scared me this time, Chris."

Reaching up, Chris pulled her hand away from her face and held it tightly against his chest. "I scared myself."

Brody looked down at their hands. "I've got to admit, jumping out of moving car, that's not something I would have done."

"In case you're wondering it's not something I recommend. In fact, now that I think of it, it was pretty stupid," he replied rubbing the pad of his thumb along her palm.

"You need anything?" Brody asked. "I can call Savannah for you if you'd like."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Shoot, I can't believe you lead Laurel to believe that there is somethin' going on between Savannah and me."

"You'd rather, I told her about you and me?" Brody said huskily. For the moment, there was nothing but flirting and banter between but eventually it could turn into something else if they acted on it. But for the now she was content that her partner was alive.

"No," Chris answered quickly.

Brody let a long sigh escape. "Well, speaking of Laurel. She's been worried sick about you. You need to talk her as soon as you're able."

Chris nodded. He couldn't fathom letting the young woman see him in his current condition but he would make a point to get together with her as soon as he was back on his feet.

* * *

**Several days later…**

There's someone at the door for you baby brother! Cade LaSalle howled as he looked down at the dark haired woman standing at the door. Placing his hand against the door jam, Cade let his eyes roam over this charming looking new woman. She was a little old for his baby brother, but none the less she was beautiful.

Maybe Chris's tastes in women were changing?

"Who should I say is callin'?"

"Linda"

Cade touched his index finger to his lips. He was on the verge of having one of those moments. "I don't recall, Chris datin' anybody with dating anyone with that name, recently. But um…he certainly should be cause you are very lovely."

"Linda Pride," she corrected watching his face flood with embarrassment.

"Pride you say, your name is? Well, come on in!"

Cade escorted Linda into the living room and then promptly walked out the front door, hoping to save face while Chris fumbled about trying to pull his battered body out of bed. Haphazardly, he threw on a pair of cargo pants and the new black t-shirt, Brody had bought for him to replace the one that Pride had cut up.

"Who is it, Cade?" He was still raking a t-shirt over his head when entered the living room.

"Linda," she smiled watching his _oh shit_ expression flood his face. It wasn't that she and Pride had made him choose a side when they separated, but Chris had always belonged with Pride, so the choice had been clear.

"Hey Linda. How ya been?"

"I think that question would be better coming from me." Linda moved closer, and cupped his chin. She needed to inspect the bruises on his face. Although they were fading, they were still there and that pained her. He'd taken the brunt of Baitfish's wrath to save Laurel.

"I remember the day Dwayne first brought you home," she said taking a step back. "I remember hoping to God that Laurel didn't end up with anyone close to the likes of you."

Chris looked down at his feet as an embarrassed version of his signature grin spread across his face. He could hardly blame Linda for thinking that way. He'd been pretty wild and careless back then.

"And now I won't accept anything less," she added. "You saved Laurel's life."

Chris shrugged, trying to be modest. "It's nothin' King and I don't do for each other every day." Why would she think Laurel be any different?

Linda reached up and touched his cheek. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Chris said as her arms found their way around his neck. "I'd do anything for you and King. Laurel too."

They were family.

**A/N II: I included Linda in this chapter for the obvious reason and because a very young Lucas Black and the actress who plays Linda once starred together in series called American Gothic. They played cousins. Paige Turco's (Linda) job was to look after LB's young character, Caleb. Very short lived I believe but you can catch clips of it on You Tube. **


	6. Chapter 6: Shot in the Dark

**A/N: Ok, back to drabbling. Came up with this idea a few weeks ago and was going to save it until a later time but I'm struggling with the end to the next chapter to Blackout so I leave you with this for your enjoyment. **

**Shot in the Dark: One Agent Fires, While Another Falls**

Meredith Brody didn't recognize the man before her as he stepped into the diner and slid into the booth beside her. Working undercover for nearly six months as the right hand to an Ex-Naval Lt. Commander turned arms dealer, Chris LaSalle was sporting a trim bread that ran the length of his jawbone. Brody wasn't much for men with beards, but it looked good. The torqued and ripped muscles lying underneath his black t-shirt, didn't look bad either. It was nice to know that after several months of deep undercover work that some things had not changed.

"Hey Baby, what are ya doin' here?" His hand snaked behind her neck drawing her in for a brief kiss that would benefit the two men who had walked in behind him. They were flunkies of the man that Chris had been assigned to help bring down.

Playing along, Brody touched the side of his face, kissing him back.

"It's time for you to come home. We miss you." For several seconds, Brody stared at him starry eyed watching as he pondered the meaning of her words. He knew he'd missed the scheduled check-in time with Pride for the second week in row. But he'd been busy tracking a shipment of stolen military issued p9's that were now being sold to a group of local terrorists targeting the Gulf Coast. Not to mention, he done things for the benefit of the case that he knew King wouldn't be too proud to hear.

His hand ran up her short black skirt, clutching her thigh. "You know I can't do that right now, Baby." He was too close to bringing it all to an end. All he needed was just a little more time.

Brody's eyes widened slightly, her eyebrows rising up on her forehead. Pride had received word that a punk that Chris had arrested several years back was now working with the organization he was trying to infiltrate. The odds of LaSalle being made had just increased by one hundred and fifty percent. Leaning in, she gently nuzzled his neck. "Pride's pulling you out." She whispered. "It's over."

Rearing back, Chris grabbed her wrist, his eyes flashing fire. "It ain't over. Till I say it's over!" he hissed shoving her for good measure.

Brody clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep her anger in check as he pushed out of the booth and signaled to the flunkies. They were all about to leave when she suddenly slid from the booth.

"I'm sorry, Baby. This is the way it has to be."

Chris looked back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing.

He had to admit, he was impressed with the short skirt and thigh high boots. Brody had played her part well, but he didn't take kindly to the fact that Pride wanted to pull him out just when he'd finally started to make some head way. If Pride was determined to pull him out now, he'd have to do it with LaSalle kicking and screaming.

* * *

Brody groaned as she pushed opened the door to the bullpen and flung her purse into a nearby chair.

"What's the matter?" Pride asked seeing the frustration in her face.

"I think we've created a monster," Brody sighed as she sank into a chair. She knew that when it came to her partner, that he was both stubborn and determined, combine that with the fact that he hated to leave things unfinished and you had the equivalent to Frankenstein with a deep southern accent.

"He wouldn't listen to me."

"Then you had eyes on him?" Pride almost sounded relieved. For two weeks now, he'd been wrestling with the fact that LaSalle's cover might have already been blown. "You talked to him?"

"He was being watched." Actually, they had done more kissing than talking, not that Brody would ever tell Pride that. The original plan had been to go in as his sister, until Chris decided to put the girlfriend spin on it. Not that it mattered to Brody, it had worked, she'd still gotten her point across. Plus, she had the added bonus of seeing one of her fantasy's come true. Needless to say, LaSalle did not disappoint. The man knew how to kiss.

"Did you warn him about Dover Littlefield?" Littlefield had been a two-bit drug dealing punk back during Chris' days with NOLA Vice, but now that he was a little older he'd become a force to be reckoned with. If he should happen to make LaSalle, Chris would be dead before he even had time to blink.

"I didn't have a chance." Brody returned as she started to pull off her boots.

"Then we are pullin' him out tonight," Pride said with conviction as he reached for the phone.

* * *

Eight hours later Pride and Brody stood outside the gates to a more than modest mini-mansion. It was the home to known arms dealer and up and coming mob affiliate, Eddie Duquesne with the right connections, the man had the potential to destroy Pride's city and all of the good people in it.

"Wow, no wonder LaSalle doesn't want to be pulled out," Brody commented looking at the lavish house, as she pulled her Kevlar over her skin tight black cat suit as LaSalle had coined it. It was actually a pair of black leggings with a fitted Lycra-Spandex top but it worked for her.

"Like it or not, he doesn't have a choice." Pride grumbled as the SWAT commander approached him.

"We're ready when you are Pride."

"On my count then," Pride crouched down with Brody following suit. "One, two, three!"

Inside, Chris stood at the front window, his weapon ready. All afternoon, he'd been waiting and watching for Pride to make his move. He'd hoped that Pride would reconsider, but given the fact that he didn't have a chance to really communicate with Brody it was doubtful.

"What's going on?"

Keeping his weapon trained on the window, Chris glanced back at the man who had been his target. For almost a year now, he'd worked the man earning his trust and earning his way into the inner circle. "We've got trouble. SWAT just pulled up."

"SWAT? Are you f-ing kidding me? How did that happen?"

"I don't know," Chris shrugged. "Maybe Rafe or Jimmy talked." Chris was referring to the two underlings that had been popped during their last attempt to run a shipment of arms through NOLA. Thanks to Chris the entire shipment had been confiscated at the dock. Unfortunately, the buyer had been killed along with a couple of Eddie's lesser known associates.

Eddie shook his head in disgust. "That aside, how do we get out this?"

"Just follow my lead," Chris flashed his famous grin as he pulled away from the window and made for the kitchen, with Eddie following. LaSalle knew that more than likely he'd be leaving this gig in handcuffs, so for the benefit of Duquesne he had to put on a good show. If he was lucky, maybe Pride would let him play this out with the façade that he was going to prison. That way, his persona of Ryan Clayne would earn a reputation on the streets and could possibly resurface at a later time. Chris had to admit, that living another life in the months following Savannah's death had saved him from total self-destruction. If he wasn't Chris LaSalle, then he didn't have to deal with the void that had been left behind. Most of all he didn't have to deal with Pride and the looks of guilt that the senior agent gave him every time he walked into the room.

The sound of the door being kicked down, signaled the beginning of what would end in a fire fight. As expected, Duquesne had a fair share of men who were at his beckon call 24/7 ready to take on anything that got in their way and tonight was no exception. Five men, all armed with assault weapons were position both in and outside the house, waiting to take on SWAT all for the man who paid their salaries and generously took care of their families.

"Do you see any sign of LaSalle?" Pride said into his com as a bullet zinged past his head, forcing him to dive behind the couch for cover. He knew that if Chris were playing by the rules, he wouldn't fire directly at them, nor would he be protected by the use of Kevlar. His hope was to end this little charade as quickly as possible and get his agent out safe.

Brody scanned the living room before her eyes floated upward towards the main hall... "Heading towards the kitchen."

"I've got eyes on Duquesne. The man with him is a federal agent. Do not fire at Duquesne unless you have a clear shot. Repeat. My agent is to remain alive and well," Pride relayed earning a visual from the SWAT commander.

* * *

"They're gunna hit us with tear gas," Chris told Eddie as they entered the kitchen. The entry had been a little faster than normal, but the presence of gas masks were a tale-tell sign that tear gas was eminent.

"Not, if we hit them first," Eddie returned, pressing an app on his phone. The house suddenly went pitch black.

"What happened to the lights?" Meredith Brody pulled out her flashlight and hauled off towards the kitchen as the tear gas was disbursed in the main room, gunfire ensuring.. Pride remained behind, giving Brody the cover she needed.

The kitchen created the perfect escape route through the garage she thought as she felt something whiz past her shoulder. Stopping short, she grabbed her weapon and pointed it straight forward.

Her breath was coming out in short pants in time with her rapidly beating heart as she felt another human presence to her right. Whirling, her arms lunged out, committed to firing. The sound of the shot rang out in time with the return of the electricity.

Still locked in her pose, Brody watched in horror as Chris stepped in front of Duquesne, taking the shot in the right side of the chest. He was attempting to shove the unarmed man out of the way when Brody fired. In his mind, Duquesne was worth more alive than dead. He wasn't sure if he'd done out of obligation to his target or the fact that Brody was shooting blindly in dark at an unarmed man.

"Chris!" Brody screamed out her partner's name as he fell against, Duquesne. By all rights, the man should have been knocked over the force of Chris' weight, but ironically, Eddie did not waver. Instead, he pressed Chris tightly against him and reached for his gun, pointing it directly at Brody.

"You're going to pay for that Bitch!," he said, using Chris as human shield as he backed out of the kitchen and into the mud room.

The door leading to the garage burst open revealing a gunman as Pride appeared at Brody's flank. Pride tackled Brody to the floor as the mystery gunman emptied his clip into the space where they had been standing, allowing Duquesne enough time to escape with LaSalle into the back of an awaiting car.

For several moments after the shooting had stopped, Pride continued to shield Brody's body with his own. When he was certain, they were free from harm's way, he slowly rolled off of her.

"What happened?" he panted as Brody sat up, a distraught look on her face.

"I shot LaSalle ." she said breathlessly.


	7. Chapter 7: A Willing Hostage

**AN: Here's a bit more. Have been debating about making this its own separate story so I can focus on some Brody Bad Ass.** **Not that it really matters how its posted as a long as y'all are willing to read, its just quickly turning into a full blown story line rather than drabble.**

Pride stared her at her. Had she just said she had shot Chris?

Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, "He stepped into my line of fire. There was nothing I could do."

"We'll deal with it later," Pride said calmly as he touched his com to inform the SWAT commander. Right now, their undercover sting operation had just turned into a hostage situation. Pride's only concern was getting LaSalle back alive. Time was of the essence now, not only was Chris possibly dying from a bullet wound caused by friendly fire; he was still in danger of his cover being blown.

* * *

LaSalle let out an involuntary cry as Duquesne and another man, manhandled him from the backseat as they entered a make-shift emergency room run by a back ally surgeon who had known ties to the up and coming syndicate. Chris had seen the aftermath of these places, but he'd never dreamed he'd end up in one. It was an old rundown warehouse in the middle of the 9th ward, run by an aging, drunken surgeon who had been displaced during Hurricane Katrina.

Chris yelped in anguish as Eddie and the other man helped him up onto the exam table. Blood from the bullet wound was now flowing freely at an alarming rate.

"Don't worry, my friend, Oliver is going to get ya patched up, but first we gotta settle somethin'" Eddie said, patting Chris' cheek. Eddie had not missed the fact that Brody had called out her partner's name, making him question the intentions of the man before him. Sadistically, he pressed two knuckles into the bullet wound, increasing the pressure until Chris screamed.

"Who in the hell is Chris?"

"I don't know, what you mean!" Chris hissed, playing dumb. Even with all of the commotion, he clearly heard Brody calling out to him right after he'd been shot.

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he pressed his hand further down into the wound. "You a cop?"

Chris squeezed his eyes shut tight, creating a pinched expression on his face in effort to keep from screaming out again.

The second guy, the one who had been driving the getaway car, touched Eddie on the shoulder. "If he was a cop why would he take a bullet for you?"

Eddie's eyes shifted toward his associate. The man did have a point. A real cop would have more than likely let him take the bullet or surrendered like a coward.

Easing up, Eddie reassuringly put pressure on the wound with his hands. "I just wanted to see if you were still with me. When this is over you and me we're going ride off into the sunset like Butch and Sundance, but if I find out that you are a cop the next bullet will be in your head."

A couple of hours ago, Chris would have been tickled pink over the fact, that Duquesne thought enough of him to want to see him through the healing of a bullet wound, but now he just wanted out. He just wanted to be Chris LaSalle again. Seeing the look on Brody's face when she realized she had shot him suddenly made this game that he'd been playing seem meaningless. He'd been in situations where things had gone sideways, but this went way beyond the typical gone wrong scenario. All hell had broken loose and he'd just been thrown into the fiery pit.

"Look Eddie, you need to get out of here." Chris pleaded. If he could get the infamous arms dealer to leave then maybe he'd be able to get the hack of a doctor that ran this place to contact Pride. That he knew of he still had the burner phone that Pride had given him in his back pocket.

Eddie shook his head, determined to seek vengeance. "Nah, man I ain't leavin you here to for NCIS to find. In fact, I'm gunna track down the bitch that gave you this bullet."

Eddie was testing his loyalty again. He wanted to see if he had a personal connection to Brody. Chris was about to say something when Oliver leaned in. "If I do not start now, your friend is going to bleed to death."

Eddie nodded in consent, prompting the man to bring out a set of surgical tools and a black market canister of anesthesia.

LaSalle tried to protest, but he was no match for the cannula that was shoved over his face and held tightly in place. In a matter of seconds he had succumbed to the anesthesia, helpless against, the dirty back alley scalpel that Oliver would use to dig out Brody's bullet.

* * *

The ride back to the field office was quite as Pride and Brody each stared pensively at the road buried in their own thoughts. Brody the moreso, their plan had been to get Chris out safely but she had destroyed any chance of that when she had put that bullet into his chest.

She still couldn't believe it. She had really shot her partner and then called out his name. Why did he have to step in front of Duquesne? Was he really taking this case and his undercover persona so seriously that he was willing to possibly die just to see Duquesne's empire come to an end? Duquesne was the last tie in to Baitfish and his operations.

How had things ended up this way? Months of meticulous planning and work had just been thrown out the window because she had gotten a little too trigger happy. Chris could die and it would all be on her hands. Had she been a little too zealous in wanting to have her partner back?

Their only saving grace would be that Pride had asked Patton to try to activate the GPS in Chris' phone. It would take some time given the fact that the phone was a burner and wasn't intended for the purpose of tracking people, but if anyone could get it to work it would be Patton.

* * *

**Hours later…**

"There, I've done all I can. The rest is up to God." Oliver washed his hands free of Chris' blood as his patient's eyes began to flutter against the dissipating anesthesia. The bullet had been fairly deep but he had managed to get it leaving behind a trail of over thirty stitches which were courtesy of some leftover fishing line from a tackle box. He knew it wasn't the best course of treatment, but at least his patient was alive.

Despite Oliver's efforts, Chris was probably looking at a good case of sepsis if proper medical attention wasn't sought after soon.

"How soon can he be moved?" Duquesne asked. He had no problem with seeking treatment or the man who had taken a bullet to protect their operation, but he had a deadline to keep. The cops weren't stupid. They would figure out sooner or later that he was still in the city and they did, it would prompt an all-out manhunt.

"If you move him now, he will more than likely die." The bullet had nicked a major artery, causing Oliver to use skills he thought were long forgotten. Cauterizing an artery without the use of proper equipment had been no easy feat, but there were no guarantees that it would hold.

"How long?"

"You should go now." Oliver declined to answer the question directly. "Your friend, needs to rest. I promise he will be safe here for the night." If the ex-Navy commander chose to abandon his colleague, then Oliver would find a way to get the injured agent the treatment he needed. The truth of the matter was the wounded agent was going to die if he didn't get a hospital soon.

Eddie could only nod as his ride joined in. "You ready to go boss?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Eddie said as he made financial arrangements to pay Oliver for the impromptu surgery before making an impromptu phone call.

"It's pretty bad isn't it?" Chris groaned, earning the shifty surgeon's attention.

"You should not be talking." Oliver hissed softly.

Chris closed his eyes, willing away the fog. "I need to make a phone call."

"I cannot-"

"I need to call my girl!" Chris retorted. "If you look in my clothes you'll find a phone, in my back pocket. All you have to do is hit the redial." That sentence had taken just about every ounce of energy he had as his body started to swim in pain.

Reluctantly, Oliver pulled the phone from Chris' trademark cargo pants and hit the redial before holding the phone next to the agent's ear.

* * *

"Hello," Brody answered the line paired with the burner phone, trying to control the sense of urgency in her voice.

"Hey Baby. How ya doin?" Chris' voice sounded weak and sluggish, as if he were barely hanging on. Brody's first thought was to apologize profusely , but she knew for his safety she couldn't.

"Where are you?" her voice cracked disobeying her minds request to keep it calm.

"Keep him talking," Pride ordered as Patton attempted to triangulate a signal.

"Heaven now that I'm talkin' to you." Chris didn't really know how to answer given the fact that Eddie was standing a few feet away. So, for the moment, he would just continue to play a role.

Brody closed her eyes, willing back unshed tears. "We're going to find you. You're going to be okay!"

Chris gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about Eddie's threat. He couldn't allow him to go after Brody. "Yeah, I don't think that's gunna work this time, Baby."

"Don't you give up. Don't you do it!" Brody's jaw started to quiver prompting Pride to grab the phone from her hands. He couldn't afford for her to say any more out of that Chris' cover might be blown. The longer he was able to keep up, his undercover persona, the longer he would stay alive.

"Almost got it!" Patton called over his shoulder as the signal began to ping off of several local cell phone towers.

Pride pressed the phone to his ear. "Charlemagne and I are comin' for you." He said calmly, listening to Chris ragged breathing. If he could just keep the line open a few moments longer. He hoped that the mention of Charlemagne would give Chris the resolve he needed to hold on just a little while longer.

**A/N: In case anyone has forgotten, Charlemagne is the name of Pride's gun.**


	8. Chapter 8: Rescue Me!

**A/N**:** Thank you, to those, who have sent requests about updates. I promise, I haven't forgotten about any of my stories. Being one of two people that consistently writes Brody/LaSalle and Canon is a tough job. Wish I could write them full-time ;). Thank you again for your support, reviews, alerts and PMs!. **

**Now, back to the usually scheduled Brody/LaSalle Bad Ass!**

**Rescue Me!**

LaSalle fought to keep his eyes open, trying to gauge the time. At least an hour had passed since he'd had managed to get word to Brody and Pride that he was still alive. Straining, he searched the room for Eddie. He was amazed that man was still here. It was just his luck that he was saddled with the only criminal who was actually loyal to his associates. He'd done such a bang up job on this case that Eddie actually seemed to care about his well-being.

Chris tried to speak, but what came out was a raspy, thin croak. He really didn't have the energy to speak; in fact he didn't have the energy breath. If Pride and Brody didn't get here soon, they were going to have a dead body on their hands. His entire body was swimming in pain and he was pretty certain he was running a fever. Whatever antibiotics Oliver was giving him weren't working.

Briefly, he wondered if this was how Savannah felt when Baitfish had shot her and left her body for him to find. In the days and months following her death, he had often wondered if she had suffered, even though Loretta had assured him that her death had been quick.

Eddie strolled over to the injured agent. "We were gunna leave. But Oliver here was listening to the police scanner, and as it turns out the Feds are looking for a wounded NCIS agent, named LaSalle. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that? Cause, the guy their describing, sounds an awful lot like you."

Chris would have felt the sickening tickle that was forming in his stomach, if he hadn't already been in so much pain. "What if I am?" he tossed out, not certain that Eddie could even hear the minute sound that came out.

"Then we have a problem, a really big problem." Eddie grinned largely before noticing the Saint Christopher medallion around LaSalle's neck. Chris knew that it was stupid to have held onto to something that was so clearly personal and connected to his real life. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't bear to take it off.

In a way, LaSalle wished that Eddie would catch on and preferably kill him quickly. That way he wouldn't have to be around to watch Brody sink into the inevitable hole of guilt that he'd fallen into.

Damn, Messier had been right about that one. He was different now. Taking on this case and becoming Ryan Clayne had proved that. He'd fallen in deep, real deep.

It was high time that Chris LaSalle found a way to crawl out.

Eyes narrowed, Chris reached up and grabbed Eddie's wrist. "Don't touch it."

"Ah, so it's a gift from someone special, is it?" Eddie grinned sadistically as he yanked it off. He was more curious than anything and wasn't expecting the revelation when he turned it over. "Well, well, what do we have here? " His free hand, clamped down on LaSalle's throat as he read the inscription.

_To:_

_CL_

_Love,_

_SK_

CL, Saint Christopher… It all made sense now.

* * *

When the location finally came online, Pride and Brody couldn't get to the warehouse fast enough. Once again, SWAT accompanied them as they surrounded the rundown building, with Pride entering first, Brody on his heels.

Working in sync they covered one another as they moved throughout the main room, making their way to the back towards Oliver's makeshift operating room. Plastic hung from the ceiling creating a false sense of a sterile operating suite.

"I'm getting a bad feelin' about this," Pride commented looking back at Brody. In his mind, he visualized that they would find LaSalle dead, with several of his vital organs missing.

Brody thought the same thing but said nothing. All she wanted was to find her partner still breathing.

A noise echoed off from the back corner, putting the agents on alert. "I'm going to check that out." Pride told Brody. You keep an eye out for LaSalle."

Brody nodded, pushing forward until she came upon Duquesne's henchman yielding a stolen P9. "Federal Agent!" Brody shouted as the man started to fire. She was about to shoot when one of the SWAT operatives, appeared from several feet away taking the man down.

Damn it! A few feet away, Eddie Duquesne swore loudly as the realization that he'd been duped washed over him. He was certain that his so called right hand man, the one he had just saved, had given him up when he'd asked to make that phone call.

"Give me your scalpel!" he shouted at Oliver. Oliver hesitated looking at the man wild eyed.

"Never mind," Eddie raised his weapon, firing. "I'll get it myself." Oliver fell over, with a resounding thud as Brody entered the room, with SWAT at her flank.

"Step away from Agent LaSalle," Brody demanded her weapon ready to fire. Briefly, she glanced at Chris. He was out cold on the table, sweat pouring from his brow. Bloody Bandages were swathed around his torso.

"And why is that?" Duquesne taunted, pressing the muzzle of his weapon into LaSalle's chest. "You want to shoot him again? Tell me, Lady NCIS Agent, how did that feel?"

Brody felt her stomach muscles begin to quiver. "Not as good as it going to feel putting one into you."

"Then why haven't you done it yet?"

Brody kept her composure as she watched Pride slip up behind Duquesne, his weapon trained to the man's head.

"If she doesn't, I will. All I need is a reason."

"Two against one," Brody sneered as Duquesne realized he was outnumbered and out gunned. Slowly, he pulled the gun away from LaSalle's chest, his hands starting to rise. In one swift movement, his hand lunged out, propelling the barrel forward at Brody.

Without missing a beat, Brody fired sending a bullet dead center into his chest. For several moments she stared pensively, lost in her own thoughts as Pride confirmed the kill shot.

Brody holstered her weapon and moved to LaSalle's side. "His pulse is thready and his skin feels like it's on fire." She said, touching the carotid artery in his neck. There was also the appearance of a tiny red rash forming near the sight of the wound. Brody tried not to notice but King beat her to it.

"Most likely sepsis," Pride returned looking around at the less than desirable conditions.

"Pride, there's also bruising on his neck." Brody swallowed. Pride gave her a somber nod before heading out to meet the EMT's, leaving Brody to watch over LaSalle.

Moving closer, Brody felt her shoe connect with something solid.

The Saint Christopher's medallion. Kneeling, she picked it up wrapping the leather of her sister's necklace around her hand before bringing it to her lips.

"I'm so sorry." She breathed inhaling the rich scent of the leather, as she clutched the metal in her hand.


	9. St Christopher: Who Protects Him?

**A/N: For those of you who need a good dose of Brody woes...**

**Crescent City Hospital**

Laurel Pride entered the waiting room nearly breathless. She had been in the middle of a music theory exam when she got the call that her father needed her.

"Daddy?" Laurel's voice questioned as she crossed over to her tired looking father.

Pride opened his arms, engulfing her. "Hi, Pumpkin."

"I can't believe this happening," Laurel whispered holding tight. "It seems like we were just here." It still seemed like yesterday since her boyfriend; Orion, had been seriously injured in an explosion meant for Pride.

Pride kissed her forehead as they parted. Gently, he slung his arm around her shoulders and the two walked over to a set of chairs on the far side of room.

"How's Chris?" Laurel asked as she sat in the vinyl covered chair.

"Yes, how is Christopher?" A voice that Pride knows better than his own echoes.

Linda.

Pride stared at his estranged wife for several seconds before she crossed the room so that they are nearly toe-to-toe. Linda looked up at him, her brown irises filled with concern. Chris had been more than a partner to King over the years. Though Pride didn't talk about it much, she knew that the lifesaving went both ways.

"He is going to make it? Isn't he?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Pride said, putting his arms around his ex.

From across the room, Agent Percy watched as the emotional family reunion unfolded.

"Pride really takes this family thing seriously doesn't he?" she asked as Brody played with the clasp on the medallion. Luckily, the clasp itself had just been separated and not broken, making it rather easy for her to pry back together.

"That he does. I think he and Linda adopted LaSalle when he joined NCIS."

"That's gotta say something," Percy sighed, tearing her attention from the estranged couple. "You wouldn't see my ex comin' around if my partner got shot."

"Mine either," Brody returned. "But for the record, our partner did get shot…by me."

Percy's lips began to part. For the first time in her life she almost didn't know what to say. Pride had already apprised her of the situation, but given that she was new to the team she didn't think that Brody would actually open up about it."

"You know this is not your fault, right?"

Brody gave the NCIS rookie, a tight smile. "Then whose fault is it? LaSalle's?"

"Maybe. Word has it he didn't follow protocol."

"Protocol?" Brody scoffed. "You think this happened because of protocol?"

Percy jutted her out her chin, her tone hardening slightly. "Honestly, I think sometimes things just go sideways and you gotta deal with that the best you can."

Brody was a seasoned agent. She knew all about how things could turn on a dime and get sideways, but for her this was personal. She'd been down this road before on the Moultrie. Ironically, during that situation she hesitated when she should have fired and now she'd fired too quickly when she should have waited.

So, I'm just supposed to deal with the fact that my partner might die because I acted too quickly."

"LaSalle ain't gonna die," Percy retorted a little more loudly that she meant too earning the attention of Loretta as she walked into the waiting room.

"There will be no talk about dying. Lord knows we've had enough death in this family where Christopher is concerned." She was referring to Savannah and although the sweet woman wasn't technically a part of their family she had been important to Chris.

"How is he?" Brody asked letting her words out in a one large whoosh.

Loretta hesitated for a moment, allowing Pride and his family to gather around before explaining that doctors needed to go in and repair Oliver's handiwork. Technically, it had saved his life, but had only provided a temporary fix. The fishing line that Oliver had used in place of sutures was definitely going to have to be removed along with any repairs that the backdoor surgeon had made.

"And the possibility of sepsis?" Pride asked, his arm slung tightly around Laurel.

It was no longer a possibility; it was reality. "For now they're treating it with a broad spectrum of antibiotics in the hope that he'll respond soon."

"And if he doesn't," Percy dared to ask.

"Then all we can do is pray."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Brody stood at the observation window in the ICU watching nurses wrap her partner in temped insulated sheets.

"What are they doing to Chris?" She asked as Loretta stepped up next to her.

"His temperature has spiked. So, they're trying to bring it down quickly."

Brody's lips pursed. The method seemed a little old fashioned given the advances of modern medicine, but who was she to question. She was the reason her partner was in this mess. The idea that she had been the one to put the bullet in him made her insides twist. It didn't matter what anyone said to her. No matter how you looked at it, she was the one who had pulled that trigger.

"Can I see him?"

"As soon as they are finished," Loretta smiled patting the younger woman on the back before noticing the medallion that was clutched tightly in Brody's hands. "May I ask what that is that you are holding in your hand?"

Brody opened her palm. "Saint Christopher's Medallion. Savannah's father found it and gave it to Chris." She would keep the part about her sister's necklace to herself. That was something private between just she and Chris.

"It's beautiful," Loretta took it from Brody's hands, reading the inscription on the front. _St. Christopher. Protect Us" _ Loretta smiled warmly looking back at Chris before giving the medal back to Brody. "He certainly does."

"The only problem with that is who protects him?" Brody tossed out.

Loretta looked at the agent stunned. She'd seem this look before, the day of the security detail shooting.

"Merri-"she began only to have Brody cut her off.

"I'm his partner. I'm supposed to have his back!" If things had gone according to plan she would have. Originally, the two of them were supposed to have gone in after Eddie, in Bonnie and Clyde type scenario looking after one another every step of the way. But a twist of fate had changed all of that.

* * *

_Harley Moon, who ever thought of that name clearly had never met Meredith Brody. That name sounded like it should belong to a stripper. At least LaSalle had been given a cover that somewhat fit his personality. Nevertheless, it was the cover that she'd been assigned so she would roll with it. _

_The two of them had just made friends with an associate of the man who Percy had helped to bust for selling military weapons on the open market. Jackson Hall was the middle man and their way into Eddie Duquesne's organization_. _Jackson had been easy enough to play. As it turned out, Brody was just his type. A little flirting, a little drinking, an intentional caress here and there and wham. He was all hers._

_The very next day Jackson introduced Chris to Eddie at a party. She'd been watching all of Eddie's people gathering Intel while Chris sought to befriend the arms dealer with a stor relating a similar background to Eddie's former military career. She envied LaSalle at times for his charm and the way he had with people. The plan had been for her to possibly seduce Eddie, but the man was instantly drawn to LaSalle like a magnet. She hoped for Chris' sake that the man was just interested in business and not anything else. Poor LaSalle, he'd never be able to keep his cover intact if Eddie were to make an advance._

_She was holding her phone in her hands when Chris walked over to her, nursing a longneck beer. "Eddie wants us to do a trial run with him tonight."_

_"__When?" she asked keeping her eyes at her shoes._

_"__Tonight," Puzzled as to why she wasn't making eye contact, Chris touched her shoulder. "Are you okay?"_

_Merri raised her eyes to him. "My Mom, she just had a stroke. Pride uh…he said…uh…it's my call."_

_"__I got this, go" In LaSalle's mind, the only call Brody needed to make was to the airline to see about getting the first flight home. _

* * *

Brody closed her eyes as the memory faded. If she had stayed with him instead of going home maybe he wouldn't have fallen so deep that it had taken an entire SWAT team and her bullet to pull him out. Maybe she could have saved him from selling his soul to the dark side. Maybe she could have saved-

"Here, give this to him when he wakes up," she told Loretta placing the medallion back into her hand before doing an about face and heading down the hall.

**A/N: I am dating myself here, but the bit with the insulated sheets stems from personal experience.**


	10. Chapter 10:Running

**A/N: Ok, I think we can all agree that drabble is not my forte! The more, I get into this plot, the more I want to explore Brody and LaSalle going undercover but first things first. I will not start another story, until the others are finished, I will not...**

For next several hours Brody sought solitude within the walls of Loretta's guest cottage, shutting everything and everyone out. Anxiety and self-loathing were beginning to take over. Why did this keeping happening to her? She had just gotten over the security detail debacle and was starting to feel like family. Why?

Frustrated, she fisted her hair as she paced the floor. She wanted to break something and then scream until her voice was spent. No matter how she tried she couldn't escape the reality that she had shot her partner in the chest. God, if she could only take it back!

Her cell phone rang and her first thought was to ignore the call, but instead she picked it up.

"Brody"

"Where the hell are you?" Percy's voice demanded, hinting on a sense of urgency.

Did it really matter? She already knew why Percy was calling. LaSalle either woke up and was asking for her or… Brody continued to pace, praying against the worst.

"They just rushed LaSalle into surgery. Something about a bleedin' artery." Percy explained, "Loretta's says-"

_A bleeding artery courtesy of the bullet she had put in his chest. _

Unable to take what might be coming, Brody pressed the end call button and fired the phone into the wall. Holding her stomach she slid to the hardwood floor. She was crying hysterically now. Loud uncontrollable sobs, that threaten to choke the life out her. For the first time in years, she was actually crying, balling on the floor like a child wailing for her mama to come and make everything right.

That wasn't going to happen.

The next morning, Brody awoke to find herself curled up tight, her knees were almost up in her chest. Swiping at her face, she felt the aftermath of a swollen nasal cavity and stinging red eyes. Her throat felt raw and sore. At some point she was certain she had been screaming, but didn't actually want to admit it.

The thought of staying in bed all day with the covers over her head, waiting to die sounded like a good idea until she realized that she was wide awake. Now, all she would do was to think of-

_Chris_\- she swallowed feeling the pain beginning to wallow up inside her chest. Pushing back the covers, she padded into the living room where she had left her phone. It was still on the floor near the wall. The screen was cracked but thankfully, it wasn't broken.

17 missed calls. Most of them were from Percy and there was one from Pride. God, what a coward they must think she is. At the moment she couldn't deny it. Pure unadulterated searing fear had driven her away and made her run.

_That's what she was good at. _

She shuddered to think if Chris was still alive as she scrolled through the list of unanswered calls and made the decision to not to listen to any of messages. She didn't know what she would do if she were to find out that LaSalle was dead.

Momentarily she thought about marching to her liquor cabinet and drowning herself in a bottle of her best red wine, but then thought differently. What good would that do? It would only serve as a temporary numbing agent.

No matter what she decided to do there was no way out of this hell. The reality that she had shot Chris and now maybe even killed him was never going away. Even if he survived and managed to bounce back, there would always be something standing in between them. How would he ever be able to trust her again? How would she ever be able to look at him, knowing that she had almost ended his life? No matter how this situation turned out, it wasn't going to be good.

Woodenly, she walked over to her computer and opened up the human resources page for NCIS. There was an opening in the Pacific Northwest, Washington State.

_Running Again?_

A new start she scoffed. Look how good this one had turned out.

Maybe it was time to resign she reasoned as a knock sounded at the door. Her first thought was not to answer it as they banged on the door again. Whoever it was they were persistent.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the leftover sting of last night's tears and pulled to feet. Shuffling to the door, she looked through the peep hole. It was Percy. Great, she was probably here to tell her that LaSalle had died. She didn't want to hear it, she didn't.

Turing the door handle, she looked down a t the pint sized agent with a vacant, broken look.

Great tears, Percy groaned as Brody braced herself for the worst.

Percy shook her head. She had never been the emotional type. "Girl, get dressed and get your ass down to that hospital right now, before I drag you down there myself!"

* * *

One hour later, Brody stood outside of the ICU cubicle, staring at Chris through the glass. He was still alive but he looked bad real bad. As it turned out, the fishing line that Oliver had used to tie off one of the bleeding arteries had broken loose. The doctors had to go back in repair everything, despite the onset of sepsis.

Thankfully, his body had decided to respond to the antibiotics they were giving him.

"Well, don't just stand there. Get your ass in there and talk to him," Percy barked, giving Brody a nudge. "The man's not going to bite you." He wasn't even awake.

Brody allowed a small smile to form to her lips as her new partner glared at her heatedly.

"Here goes nothing." She breathed as she slipped through the doorway.

He looked peaceful; relaxed she thought as studied the calm features of his face. But that damn beard made him look so different, so unlike himself, evil in a way, representing the dark the persona that was so uncharacteristically him. A knot started to form in her chest. What if when he woke up he wasn't Chris anymore? What if being undercover for so long had changed him? Brody couldn't stand the thought. Losing Savannah had already changed him somewhat, making his infectious smile diminish.

Savannah, she sighed knowing that her death had been the reason he'd taken on this assignment in the first place. Oh sure, blame a dead woman because you shot your partner! she berated herself as she noticed her sister's leather band sticking out from underneath the hospital gown.

She was thankful to see that Loretta had managed to slip the medallion back around his neck. At least he wouldn't have an anxiety attack worrying about it when he woke up.

Waking up she mused. Given the situation, the thought of actually having to face LaSalle and what she had done was only second to the possibly of his death. She couldn't do it. She was done. Extending her hand, she gently stoked the side of his face before leaning over and pecking his cheek.

"Goodbye, Chris."

**A/N: See why I thinking of posting this separately. This story has become a monster of a plotline!**


	11. Chapter 11: Karma

**A/N: The two stories are minimally connected by similar characters, but are each going to stand as their own separate entity. Not necessary to have read "Prelude" which is soon going to have a title change...**

Meredith Brody felt her heart pound as she entered the bullpen and stepped up to Pride's desk. In her hands, she held a single piece of paper that contained one sentence.

_Effective immediately, I, Meredith Brody, resign my position as a senior field agent within the ranks of NCIS. _

"Resign?" Pride looked at the paper, Brody had placed in his hands. "Why?"

Brody opened her mouth but couldn't form the words. The fact that she shot her partner and best friend was choking the life from her. "I can't work here anymore."

Pride let her resignation fall onto his desk , "I need a better answer."

Brody lowered her head. "I shot LaSalle. I don't see how we can ever work together again." How could any of them ever trust her to have their back?

"So, you shot LaSalle," Pride shrugged. "I told you we'll deal with it."

The older agent reached into his desk and handed her a file. "Is this what you're worried about?"

Tentatively, Brody took the file from his hand. "This is your report of the shooting."

"Read it," he directed as she started to skim over his detailed account. "Out loud."

Brody sucked in a deep breath. "While trying to subdue, the unsub, Senior Agent, Christopher LaSalle, was shot point blank in the chest and subsequently abducted by an unknown member of the suspect's organization.

Raising her eyes, she swallowed. "This is a lie."

"Not in the way I remember it." He wasn't about to let Brody go through another task force hearing again. He knew it would be the end of her career. He would handle this in house in on his terms.

"But Pride-"

Pride leaned over his desk. "We're family. We handle things in our own way."

Brody shook her head. "I can't stay here…"

"So, you're just going to run again?" Pride countered. "And then what?"

Brody looked at him almost dumbfounded.

"Did coming here make you forget about the people on the Moultrie?" Pride challenged.

Brody couldn't argue. Over the past year or so it had certainly helped to soften the blow but she would never forget the lives that were lost due to her hesitation.

"No matter where you go, it will never change what happened to Chris. Just like he can never change what happened to Savannah or you, your sister."

A huge lump started to form in Brody's throat. "Pride, I-

"And I can't let you go right now, we're shorthanded." he finished stuffing the file back into his desk.

* * *

Sonja Percy carefully eyed the blonde toting Gucci standing outside LaSalle's room. She definitely appeared to be looking for someone the guest agent thought watching as the woman peered through the window and went inside.

The blonde stared at the agent sleeping in the bed and wondered if she could awaken him. Moving closer, she gently touched his cheek, prompting his face to twitch. A moderate dose of morphine, limited his ability to create conscious thought. Opening his eyes, he saw a warped figure standing over him but was unable to process the person's identify.

"Hey Handsome. Eddie sends his warmest regards." Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a P229, the silenced edition. "You know it's too bad you're cop. I really liked you."

"It's Federal Agent! Get it right!" Percy's voice boomed as she hit the door, weapon ready to fire. The blonde shot first, forcing the petite agent to jump to the side as she fired back, hitting the wall.

Alarms started to go off at the sound of the disturbance, as the blonde fled, prompting Percy to spring back to her feet, giving chase. She was almost to the elevator when the blonde turned and fired again, into a gathering of innocent people.

Realizing the instability of her location and the potential of innocent lives being lost, Percy stopped allowing the blonde to escape into the elevator. She debated taking the stairs, but something inside of her told her not to leave LaSalle alone.

What if blondie had a partner?

* * *

"I need you here at least until Chris is back up on his feet." Under a contractual clause, Pride could keep legally Brody until all current cases that she was working on were closed. That would give him time to figure out a way to handle this.

His phone rang, interrupting the rest of his thoughts. "This is Pride."

It was Percy.

"We need to go back to hospital. Chris is in trouble." Pride told Brody, as he pulled his weapon from the desk drawer and slid it onto his belt.

Brody stubbornly shook her head. "I can't go back there." She had already said her goodbye and wasn't about to be put through another round of hell.

"You do not have choice. This is business. Someone just tried to put another bullet into LaSalle. They would have succeeded if it hadn't been for Sonja."

Brody's face paled. She had not considered the fact that people in Eddie's organization would want to retaliate, but it made sense. Chris had spent six months working for the man as his right hand. The idea of betrayal had to be swirling in the minds of Eddie's people.

* * *

"How's LaSalle?" Brody didn't want to ask but how could she not?

Percy rolled her eyes. "Truthfully? The man is on so many drugs right now, I doubt he noticed."

"What did she look like?"

"Blonde, about 5'7, dressed to the nines and carrying a Gucci Handbag."

Brody whipped out her phone and pulled out a picture which Percy instantly confirmed. "Pride, it's Ella Rowe, Duquesne's head of security."

And his only sibling.

LaSalle needed round the clock security. Even though, Duquesne was dead his empire wasn't. There were still key players out there, who knew that Chris would be more than likely be the prosecution's star witness. It would be his evidence and his testimony that ultimately bring the entire organization down.

"No, one gets in without an ID check. We'll do this in shifts," Pride told them. "Percy, you've been here all night. Go home get some rest and meet me back at the office at 5 O'clock. Brody your up."

To stay with LaSalle? "But Pride-"

"Look, I know what your issue is but right now I can't do anything about it. I need you here to protect LaSalle in case Ella or one of her people decides to come back."

Ella wouldn't come back Brody reasoned, although, she wouldn't mind the opportunity to kick the blonde's ass.

For the first couple of hours, Brody was content to position herself outside of LaSalle's room. Dutifully, she checked ID badges and watched hospital staff as they went in and out of the room. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't doing enough. She needed to be out there with Pride hunting Ella.

But instead she was here, babysitting the man she had shot.

Was this the Universe's idea of trying to get her to face her fears instead of running away from them? Maybe she could leave as soon as LaSalle was out of danger, which would probably be never. Thank God, Percy had been here to have his back, when she hadn't. What if Ella would have killed him, while she was off pouting someplace? Her heart would have been crushed to dust. She would never be able to live with herself.

She let herself wallow in her thoughts for a moment more before finally deciding to go inside. Holding her breath she prayed that LaSalle was still sleeping. Thankfully, he was. Whew. She breathed a sigh of relief, baby steps were fine with her. As long as LaSalle was sleeping, she could tolerate being in the room. They would work themselves up to talking later. Better yet, she would talk and he could sleep.

Hanging back, she watched through the drawn curtain as one of the nurses, finished up his sponge bath. She had to wonder how the man could sleep through something like that until she remembered the amount of medication they were giving him to allow his body to heal. After the nurses, had gone, Brody curiously started to go through the bucket of toiletries they'd left behind: soap, dry shampoo, deodorant, mouth swabs, shaving cream and a razor.

A razor. Brody glanced at her partner briefly, staring at beard that was masking part of his handsome face. God, how she hated that thing! Pondering, she wondered what it would be like if she...

Smiling deviously, she took the razor and the shaving cream from the basket. Though she knew she was invading his personal space, she wanted to see his face again and run her hands over his smooth cheeks. What did she had to lose? Chances were he already hated her for doing the unforgivable and putting a bullet in his chest. What could a little shave hurt?

When she had finished she ran the back of her hand over his smooth, bare cheek. "There, now you look like you again." she said softly not expecting for his face to start to twitch, followed by the crinkling of his forehead.

Oh... this was bad, really bad...

He was waking up.

Brody started to back up slowly as her heart started to slam against her chest. Blinking, his eyes were blinking. She stopped short when he seemed to pin her with his dark blue irises coming into view. He was staring right at her.

"Brody?"


	12. Chp 12: Face Your Fears

**A/N: Well here we are Brody has to face her fears!**

Brody opened her mouth but a different voice started to speak.

Loretta appeared behind her, with Sebastian in tow.

"Merri," the cheery medical examiner greeted, before turning her attention to the patient.

Saved by the bell, Brody thought as the duo started to dote around LaSalle like two mother hens. She knew that with Pride refusing to process her process her resignation she was more than likely going to have face Chris sooner or later.

What in the world would she say? Hey, glad you're doing better partner, by the way, I'm sorry about putting that bullet in your chest.

Her heart started to hammer, as she watched LaSalle's movements and motions. He was becoming increasingly more alert. Soon he would be up to talking and normal conversations, needing answers…

She briefly wondered how much he would remember. Anxiety started to rise in her chest. What if he remembered all of it? Once again, she attempted to leave the room, only this time she was blocked by Pride.

He stood, holding the door, "Going somewhere Brody?"

"I was just going to check the security cameras to see if our gun yielding Barbie was hiding out someplace."

"I've already done that. Patton also has access to them now. So, if Ella's anywhere in building we will find her."

Brody stared pensively, nodding her head. She wished she wasn't so much of a coward, but at the moment her fear was almost crippling. But at least everyone was here, save for Percy. In a room full of people she doubted that she would be put in a position to bare her soul.

Loretta stepped away from the bed, turning her attention to Brody, "Merri, Dwayne told me that you're considering leaving us?"

That got LaSalle's attention. "What?"

Brody looked around Loretta to LaSalle and then averted her gaze to Pride narrowing her eyes. "I haven't really haven't made a decision yet. My parents are getting older and my mother hasn't been in the best of health lately."

"That's right," Loretta nodded. "I'd hate to see you leave, but I understand."

As soon as she was able, Brody caught Pride in the hall. "You told Loretta?"

"Not exactly," Loretta was very intuitive and when she had asked Pride what was bothering him. All he had said was that he had an agent who was considering leaving the family."

It hadn't taken Loretta long to figure out it was Brody. Despite, Brody's answer Loretta probably knew that it had nothing to do with her aging parents.

"Do you just enjoy torturing me?"

Pride put his hand on her shoulder. "It seems to me from where I stand, you're doing a fine job of that all by yourself."

* * *

Three days, later Brody sighed in relief as she walked into the sanctuary of a popular restaurant in the Quarter and ordered a glass of wine. It had been a hell of a day. A lead on Ella Rowe had ended up in a shootout with the suspect getting away which meant LaSalle was still in danger.

It was getting harder and harder to avoid her fallen partner. He was lucid all the time now and had been moved out of the ICU. But she managed to keep her distance, limiting herself to being in his presence when other people were in the room.

"Your wine Madame"

She thanked the waiter and closed eyes savoring the taste. Tonight she was meeting with a security specialist who worked out of Quantico about a possible position with the FBI.

"Are you ready to order?"

"I'm meeting someone," she replied as the sound of an unmistakable southern accent filled the room.

"Sorry, I'm late," LaSalle flashed his signature grin as he took the seat directly across from her, "I'll have the porterhouse steak medium-well, baked potato with everything, and a sweet tea."

Brody had no words as he and the waiter looked at her expectantly.

"She'll have the chicken Caesar salad with the dressing on the side." LaSalle told the waiter allowing his partner another moment to recover from the shock.

When the waiter was gone, Brody leaned across the table, "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" she asked punctuating her words with an edge of frustration.

Chris reached for her water glass and took a swallow. "Having dinner with you, that steak's going to taste good after a week of hospital food."

Brody felt her jaw tighten as she realized that she had been set up. There was no security specialist coming to meet her. LaSalle himself had more than likely engineered this little charade all on his own.

She would skip over the part of how he had managed to get out of the hospital and ditch the protection detail that Pride had assigned. Hell, Pride was probably the one who helped himself escape.

"Chris, you can't be here. There is a target on your back."

His face twisted slightly. "You mean Ella? Well the best way to draw her out is to place myself right out in the open."

"And risk being shot?" Brody countered, not realizing that she had just put herself in a position for a hell of a comeback.

"Yeah…someone else already did that." His tone sobered, he watched her face fall.

Bullseye.

Brody felt her chest tighten. She deserved that she really did, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "I'm not having this conversation with you." She recanted stiffly.

She started to pull back only to have Chris reach across the table and grab her by the wrist, causing the silverware and the place setting to clang. People were looking at them now.

"Let me go," Brody growled lowly as not to draw any more attention to them.

"Not until you talk to me. I need you to hear me out."

Hear him out? Brody's eyes narrowed in curiosity as he loosened his grip, prompting them to slide back down into their seats. Her heart was pounding with fear about what he might say.

"I'm sorry," he began. "You've been avoiding me and it's my fault"

"You're sorry?" she repeated. How is any of this his fault? She had been the one to pull the trigger.

LaSalle eased back into his seat, grimacing slightly. "That night at Eddie's, he was unarmed and when I saw you had drawn your weapon…"

He'd thrown himself in front of Eddie, hoping that when she saw him, she would hold back. His only intention had been to save her from being implicated in shooting an unarmed man and to keep his cover intact. He hadn't stopped to think about what it would do to her personally.

The truth was neither of them had been thinking at all.

Brody pursed her lips into a thin line. This didn't change a thing. "So, where do we go from here?"

She rolled her eyes when Pride suddenly appeared, stepping up behind Christopher, "You go back to the beginning and learn to trust each other again."

Chris extended his hand across the table. "Welcome to the New Orleans office, I'm Special Agent LaSalle."

For several seconds she just looked at his hand, before tentatively taking a hold of it. "I'm Brody," she smiled, in defeat as Pride pulled up another chair and proceeded to join them in a family dinner.

**Fin...until the next Sideways Adventure starts to creep up. Thanks for continuing to read this series of short stories and what have yous. I am touched by the fact that we're almost at 100 reviews with this one! **


	13. Chapter 13: What If

_**A/N: This is an alternative ending to How Much Pain Can You Take. I have always enjoyed the talent of Dylan Walsh (Messier) and wondered what it would be like to expand his role as the mole just a bit. Also, what would happen if Chris decided to pull the trigger before Pride and Brody got to him?**_

**What If: Part 1**

_Ok, shoot him and then what? The pain isn't going away and you'll be left with something way worse inside you…_

Captain, Jim Messier, stood at the back of bar watching as Pride's protégé proceeded to drown in a combination of agonizing grief and whiskey. He actually felt bad for LaSalle and had to wonder why his mentor and father figure wasn't taking better care of the grieving agent.

Could it be that Dwayne Pride was suffering from a bad case of guilt? When your arch nemeses strikes at heart of one of people and hits them where they live that had to hurt. Whatever the reason, Pride's neglectfulness of his agent would be Messier's gain.

Messier had a score to settle. Baitfish had killed two of his people and was now threatening to sell out his girlfriend, Sasha Broussard to the U.S. Attorney. Then there was Pride himself who had just arrested, his fair lady on a charge of contraband. Not that he blamed the agent for doing his job, but Pride was too good. It wouldn't be long now before he figured out that Messier had jumped into bed with Sasha.

So, Messier needed a plan. He wasn't about to let his lady sail down the river without a paddle nor was he about to let Baitfish get away with killing his people. Messier had already fed LaSalle the story of his former partner, Theo Garland, and how he fallen into a deep dark hole in his quest for satisfaction against his wife's killer. He could see that LaSalle was already teetering on the edge and wondered exactly how much it would take before the young man fell. If he could get the young NCIS agent to take care of Baitfish, then that would solve a lot of problems, he and Sasha would be free and Dwayne Pride would be none the wiser believing himself to blame.

Loosening his tie, Messier walked up to the bar and took the seat next to LaSalle. "I'll have what he's having."

"Bourbon and Branch Water," LaSalle told the bartender, looking down into his glass. He wasn't in the mood for company, but if Messier wanted to drink next to him he wouldn't complain. He had just been through the worst day of his life and things didn't appear to be getting any better.

The news of Baitfish getting a deal and the promise of new life had just about done him in. To boot he had to live with Savannah's father asking him to seek justice for the death of his little girl and being virtually helpless to do anything about it. Baitfish was going to walk and there wasn't a damn thing he could do.

"It's been a hell of day, hasn't it?" Messier asked mulling over his drink as the near distraught, agent pounded the rest of his. "I bet you're wondering how much more pain you can take?"

The answer was none, absolutely no more. Chris thought silently, reaching for the bottle of bourbon that the bartender had left on the counter. If one more thing happened to his family, blood related or otherwise, he was going implode. As it was he could barely keep things together for the sake of the case.

Messier leaned in slightly. "You know I just got back from talking to the families of my two officers. I can only imagine how you must have felt having to face Savannah's father with the notion that his little girl was killed because of what you do every day and now that Baitfish is getting off…"

He watched as LaSalle's hand tightened around his glass. The younger man's knuckles were turning white. Messier half expected the glass to break, "I can't imagine what that's doing to you."

"No you can't," Chris retorted, downing the rest of his drink.

"It's a hell of a position to be in son. I can't say that if the same thing happened to the woman that I loved that I wouldn't take the exact same steps as my friend, Theo. Especially, if I knew that our so called justice system was just going to let the guy off."

LaSalle was twisting in unresolved anger and pain. Messier could see it. In fact, he almost felt bad for pushing the young agent. A glorious career and life was about to be destroyed and it was all because of his words.

But it needed to be done.

* * *

The next morning, LaSalle stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw clenched. Karen Izzo and her team of U.S. Marshals had just arrived to escort Baitfish to the federal building.

"Kevlar, really?" LaSalle looked at Messier.

Messier knew that if he was going to get LaSalle to make a move, it had to be now. "He's a federal witness now, everything's been forgotten, all those murders, my men, your girlfriend, just swept under the rug, like their lives were worth nothing."

Chris felt like he had been dragged through broken glass. His only hope was that Pride could convince Sasha to take the deal the D.A. was offering, and then the one the US attorney was offering to Jenks would be useless.

"You know," Messier added, "No one would blame you for wanting to put a bullet through his head."

LaSalle cut eyes at the police captain before walking away to suit up in his Kevlar.

* * *

The Explorer came to a halt in front of the warehouse, Pride's heart was pounding. The idea that LaSalle had given chase after Baitfish made his stomach twist in fear. He knew how vulnerable his surrogate son was and the fact that Chris had been keeping everything suppressed so that he could be a part of the case worried him even more.

"LaSalle's in here!" Brody told him as they started to move towards the door. "Messier's got back up!" Once inside they moved in sync canvassing the small narrow hallway. They were just about to the main room when a gunshot rang out echoing through the building.

"Christopher!" Pride took off in dead run praying he would hear a second shot. By the time he and Brody arrived, Baitfish was lying in pool of his own blood. He'd taken a direct shot to the head.

Baitfish stared vacantly up at Pride as he knelt beside him. The man that he had hunted for nearly twenty years is dead and his surrogate son is to blame. Could this situation possibly get any worse?

Pride glared at LaSalle. He already knew the answer to the question he is going to ask. "Christopher, what did you do?"

_What needed to be done, King_

LaSalle was almost catatonic, like he was the when Pride and Brody first arrived the night Savannah died.

"Chris!"

That got his attention. "He drew first, King."

Pride looked down at Jenk's dead body. Baitfish was getting the deal of a lifetime. He would have no reason to draw his weapon, unless he perceived LaSalle as a threat. The thought was plausible. LaSalle had been his original target. He'd only killed Savannah because she happened to be in right place at the wrong time. Then were Baitfish's finger prints, they were already on the weapon from where he had taken the Marshal's weapon.

He tried to think about the situation being reversed. What if Laurel had been the one killed? Would he just be able to accept that the man responsible for so many murders was just going to get a new start?

Could he remain the cool headed rational man he was supposed to be when faced with the opportunity to bring down the man who killed his only child? He was hardly in a position to judge LaSalle, he tried to tell himself.

Pride rose to his feet. He and LaSalle were going to have to deal with this. "Are you sure?" he asked skeptically, as LaSalle continued to look right passed him. "Christopher, I'm going to need your weapon."

LaSalle looked down at his gun as if someone else had fired the shot and reluctantly started to hand it over to Pride.

* * *

Several hours later, Pride sat at his desk, typing up a report of the day's events, his gut still twisting. He had always thought that the day that Baitfish died would be a day of rejoicing and peace, but instead it was just the opposite.

He had just risen to his feet when Messier walked in, his hands in his pockets. "Where's LaSalle?"

"Bereavement leave, he's going back home for Savannah's funeral." Pride moved from out behind his desk. "You want a drink?"

"Don't mind if I do," Messier joined Pride in the kitchen. After making the appropriate amount of small talk, Messier went for the jugular. "Listen Pride, LaSalle's a good cop and all but we both know what happened out there today."

Pride set down his glass, his face hardening. Messier was accusing his agent and his friend of cold blooded murder. "I know LaSalle told me that Jenks drew first."

Messier put his hands up. "I'm not saying the boy didn't do the world a favor. But Karen Izzo is going to be out for blood." The death of Baitfish had blown her deal to nail Sasha Broussard and several unknowns had just gone out the window.

"I'll deal with Karen." He had an idea as to how to sway, the US attorney not to press charges against LaSalle. It would cost him, but given that he was essentially the reason LaSalle was in this mess in the first place it he had no choice. He would take care of his family.

Messier, shook his head. "Given what we saw from LaSalle when his brother was arrested, the man has anger issues. "

Pride's eyes narrowed. Why was Messier so concerned with LaSalle? At the moment, all the reports were indicating that it was a good shoot with the exception that there weren't any cameras or witnesses to collaborate LaSalle's story. "I'll handle Christopher. If the investigation proves that charges need to be filed, I'll stand by that."

* * *

Councilman Douglas Hamilton, smiled largely as Pride took a seat at his table inside the Royal Street Garden Café. The café had yet to open, welcoming an atmosphere surrounded in privacy.

"Agent Pride, to what do I owe this honor?"

Pride removed his sunglasses as he sat down. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. I need you to have that private conversation with Karen Izzo."

Intrigued, Hamilton picked up his coffee cup. "Why should I do that?"

"It was one of my people that killed Paul Jenks."

"LaSalle," Hamilton mused as he took a swallow of coffee. "That was quite poetic don't you think?"

LaSalle had actually saved Hamilton from facing public outrage over Baitfish's so called deal. Thanks to the grieving agent, a murderer had been brought to justice and his numbers in the polls were now safe. Hamilton set his cup down. "So, suppose, I talk to Karen and get her not put additional heat on the investigation. Then what?"

Pride would be indebted to Hamilton for sparing LaSalle. There was so much bad blood between him and Hamilton he shuddered to think what that would mean. "What do you want?"

Hamilton could hardly believe his ears. Was Dwayne Pride actually going to bargain for his agent's life? This was too good. The thought of asking Pride to turn in his badge came to mind, but unfortunately, Hamilton needed Pride to help keep his city safe. But then again the idea of having his own person at the head of NCIS was definitely entertaining as was having Pride in his hip pocket.

"Suppose for now, we agree to put our differences aside, and say that when the time is right, I'll come a callin'"

"Agreed," Pride felt his jaw clench. He had just given Hamilton a free license to essentially blackmail him for the rest of his life, a deal with the devil so to speak.

**A/N: I know this part was very introductory so to speak. The next chapter will focus on our boy and how he deals with the consequences of his actions.**


	14. Chapter 14 What If Part 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I always appreciate those who read. This part has some Brody/LaSalle for those who are like me and need some Cherri. **

**What If Part 2**

Phase one complete. Messier thought as he stood far back from the gravesite service watching a somber looking LaSalle. The grieving agent was standing between his brother and Pride, protected by the two people that cared about him the most.

Well good for him. He was lucky Messier thought. LaSalle was a good guy and well respected in the law enforcement community. No one would think twice about his little slip of the trigger. Even Pride seemed to be turning the other cheek which surprised Messier a bit. But then again, Pride was the one who was ultimately to blame for this entire mess. Maybe he felt the kid needed a break, or he truly believed LaSalle was innocent. It didn't really matter, LaSalle was heading for a downward spiral either way, and one that Messier hoped would lead him to his death. Once the agent hit rock bottom, Messier could slip in and make it look like a suicide. Shouldn't be too hard, with LaSalle's family history of mental illness and all.

* * *

Poor LaSalle had no idea that he had been set up and neither did Pride.

Spiraling out of control Merri Brody thought as she watched her partner beat the hell of out a hostile witness who had called her bitch.

_Bitch_

_"__Come again?" LaSalle grabbed the man by his shirt front. "She is a federal agent. You will address her with respect."_

_"__Okay…f-ing bitch"_

"LaSalle stop!" She had seen him engaged in brawls before but nothing compared to this. He looked like he was literally going to kill the man.

"I said stop!" Brody reached for his shirt sleeve only to earn his elbow in her face. Chris hadn't meant to hit her; he was just so into throwing the next punch that he didn't see Brody come up behind him.

He turned around when he heard her gasp, allowing the even more hostile witness to get the drop on him. The two men wrestled for a few moments more until Chris popped back up to his feet with weapon in hand.

"I think it's time we end this." He snarled as Brody jumped in front of him , her big brown eyes bulging.

She held a palm straight out at him while the witness cowered behind her, "Chris, No!"

LaSalle's face twisted in anger towards his partner as he holstered his weapon.

"It wasn't like I was going to shoot him," he grumbled as they made their way back to the Explorer.

Brody purposely waited until she was at the driver's side door before turning on him. "How do I know that, Chris?" For weeks now, his behavior had been erratic. He came to work late, left when he wanted to and on really good days, he smelled like brewery. She was pretty sure he wasn't drinking before work, but that is was the left over from the night before. It was the kind of drunkenness that stayed with you through the next day and leaked out your pores.

Not that Brody blamed him for handling his demons that way, she didn't. But it was starting to affect his work and more importantly their friendship. For the most part, he was still the same Chris LaSalle only a little more somber and serious than he'd been before. No more jokes, no more smiles and no more bantering. It was come to work do you job without too much socializing and get the hell out before the volcano of self-destruction hit.

Even his physical appearance had changed. He would go days without shaving and for some unknown reason he'd taken a liking to a plain white t-shirt with a v-neck that seriously clashed with the rest of his wardrobe.

Brody would never find out that the t-shirt was the one that Savannah had worn the last time she and Chris had been together.

The poor man was dying inside and didn't even know it or maybe he did. Maybe that was he wanted.

God, she hoped not.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" LaSalle bit back, latching onto her arm.

Brody turned around, her eyes blazing. "You know damn well what it means. You were out of control back there. "

"I was just defending you." He argued.

Brody bit down on her bottom lip, contemplating. "I get called a bitch about every other day at this job and I have never seen you go off like that."

LaSalle's right eye narrowed slightly. "Yeah, well, maybe things are just different now."

Brody drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Evidently so. But you are so angry, If you end up killing someone that is going to be on your shoulders not mine."

Chris leaned in closer making sure he was invading her personal space. "I already did that."

"And how does that feel?" Brody challenged. "Did you get the result you wanted?"

She watched as his eyes narrowed and his face turned a deep shade of angry red. He was seething mad. Brody had hit him right where he lived and he was going to explode.

"He drew first," he seethed, trying to marshal the emotion that was forming inside his chest. He wasn't going to let himself believe otherwise. Baitfish's hand did move for the weapon he had taken off of the deputy marshal. It did. He had even pulled the gun out far enough that it fell onto the concrete in front him right after Chris had shot him.

Chris LaSalle was no hero but he wasn't a cold blooded killer either. The slightest of an opportunity had presented itself and he had taken it. It was plain and simple.

"The man still died, Chris. You killed him."

LaSalle rolled his eyes as he started to walk away. "We've both killed people. It's part of the job."

Brody wasn't about to let up. The interrogator in her was in charge now. "But Baitfish killed your girlfriend. He went to your house looking for you and when you weren't there he killed Savannah in cold blood and you wanted to return the favor. You couldn't stand he was getting a deal!"

Chris closed his eyes and clenched his fists. That much was true. But he was determined to stand his ground. Whirling around, he got right back into her face. "You got a problem with me? Put in for a transfer, because from where I stand that's the only thing you're good at!"

She certainly wasn't good at being a partner and as for a friend… He was through with her, finished.

* * *

"He's out of control, Pride!"

Dwanye Pride had his nose buried deep into a file. "I'm well aware of that, Brody."

"Then do something!" Brody returned, frustrated. She was not only hurt by LaSalle's lack of professionalism and kindness but she was scared to death he was going to hurt someone or himself.

Pride closed the file in his hands. "What would you like me to do?"

Brody opened her mouth but couldn't come up with a plausible answer that didn't sound like disrespect. "Take him out of the field before he kills someone."

"We both know he's already done that and it's a closed matter," Pride said calmly sounding just like LaSalle. "Trust me it won't happen again."

"How do you know that?" she pleaded.

"Because, I know Chris." He wouldn't go into details, but he was taking steps to make sure his surrogate son wasn't going to go off the rails and end up for a lack of a better term like Brody. He hated being so evasive with her. Chris' situation had to be tearing her up inside, given the fact that she had inadvertently been responsible for killing eight people when her sister died.

"You know Chris," she repeated in a gesture of sarcasm. "That's it, huh?"

"Pretty much," Pride said coolly. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll talk to him about what happened today." Yes, he would talk to LaSalle and reprimand him for his actions and if it came to it he would take him out of the field and make him earn his way back.

But not today. Today he was playing the part of a surrogate father who was trying to deal with a grieving son, who had opened up a whole new wave of hurt when he chose to go after Baitfish. His grief was swallowing him whole, consuming him and Pride understood why. He'd not only lost the woman he loved, but he'd taken a life. Even in the best of situations that part of the job was never easy.

Pride would never ask him directly about the shooting. However, it had gone down was Chris' to live with. In the eyes of the law, LaSalle was innocent; Hamilton had made sure of that. All he had to worry about was getting the heartbroken agent to put it all behind him.

Although Pride's methods were unconventional, he believed that they would work. Night after night, he went to Chris' place, some nights just to talk, others just to listen watching protectively trying to get a feel for the younger man's state of mind. He could pull LaSalle back, he was sure of it. He just needed some more time.

* * *

Messier eyed his target, as LaSalle sat in the first pew of the St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square, the St. Christopher's medallion in his hand. Today had been another horrible day. When were they ever going to stop? When was he going to stop he thought thinking of Brody. She didn't deserve the way he had treated her. More than anyone she knew the depth of his situation and he had only ended up pushing her away.

"Confessing your sins?" Messier appeared, placing his hand on the agent's shoulder.

Chris looked at the older detective curiously. "Didn't know you were a man of faith, Messier."

Messier slid into the pew next to LaSalle. "Oh, I've been known to frequent a service or two every now and then." A pregnant pause lapsed. "It's a good place for cleansing the soul."

Chris nodded giving the older man a half smile before tapping him on the knee. "Well, I just remembered, I've got to go apologize to somebody."

You do that Messier smirked silently as LaSalle pulled to his feet. It'll be the last apology you ever make.

**A/N So, I didn't say that Cherri had a happy scene but Chris is on his way to make amends.**


	15. Chapter 15: What If Part 3

**A/N: I want to acknowledge my new guest reviewers and say thank you to: M. Wieters, Percy Power, and Guest. I really appreciate that you took the time to comment. Feedback is what keeps my muse going. To start the chapter off, there's a little Cherri for all of you. **

**What If Part 3**

"Chris?" Brody opened the door. She was dressed in a long a floral bathrobe.

In his hands, he held her favorite bottle of red wine, a peace offering so to speak. "Am I interrupting somethin'?" he asked noting the time and her attire, as an English accent floated out from beyond the main room.

"Is that the bloke that gave you the fat lip?" It was James.

Brody closed her eyes, before looking over her shoulder and quelling the angry look in the playboy journalist's eye. "Just give me a second." Closing the door, she stepped out onto the front porch, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What are you doing here?" Her partner showing up on her front doorstep was the last thing she had expected. To top everything off she was still pissed.

"I came to apologize for giving you that fat lip." He said pushing the wine towards her.

Brody took it from his hands. She knew it had taken a lot for him to come here, but now wasn't the time. She had James in the next room and though he would never be able to handle himself against Chris he was ready to tear the arrogant agent's head off.

"A bottle of wine isn't going to fix things, Chris," But it was a start. There were so many things that needed to said, broken trust that needed to be earned back. Brody wanted to tell him that she understood his lack of hesitation when he had pulled that trigger. It was the exact opposite of her actions on the Moultrie. She had hesitated when she shouldn't have and he had acted too fast. Both actions had stemmed from an overwhelming sense of loss. Different situations, but the same result.

"I know," LaSalle replied, humbling. "But I was hopin' we could talk."

Now, he wanted to talk? His timing couldn't have been any worse. But she wasn't about to deny him the opportunity to open up. "Give me a couple of hours," she said, "I'll meet you at the café on Royal."

"You don't have to Brody. I'll just see ya tomorrow. " He replied averting his eyes. He started to step off the porch, only to have her touch his arm.

"Chris, I don't want to wait until tomorrow."

"Ok," he said, resigned. "I'll be there."

He walked back to the truck kicking himself for ruining Brody's moment with James. Well truthfully, he wasn't that upset about it. He knew she was just using her ex as an occasional booty call. It was supposedly her way of getting back at the man for leaving her high and dry.

Somethin' wrong with that picture he thought as he removed the wireless key from his pocket prompting the engine to start. Touching the door handle, he felt someone come up behind him followed by a sharp stick to his neck.

"Don't fight it. It won't do you any good." It was Messier.

"What is that?" Chris squeezed his eyes shut as Messier removed the removed the syringe.

"It's animal tranquilizer." A small dose of M99 to be exact it wasn't enough to kill the agent but it would keep him subdued long enough for Messier to see out his plan.

"Why?" Chris tried to struggle but it was no use.

"It's nothing personal. Sasha and I have business to finish and I can't afford for Pride to be in the way." Messier replied as the agent went limp in his arms. If Pride were too busy looking for LaSalle because he had gone off the rails then Messier could attend to the cargo in his shipping containers and none would be the wiser.

* * *

**3 hours later…**

Brody stared pensively at the empty seat across from her. Chris was an hour late. Not that this surprised her really, given his behavior over the last several weeks, but it did concern her. When he had showed up her at house his intentions seemed so sincere.

Reaching for her phone, she checked her missed calls list. There was nothing. But she had called him 3 times, once for every fifteen minutes he was late. Sighing, she decided to call Pride. She hated to bother the man, but a nagging feeling in her gut told her not to just let this go.

"Pride, have you heard from Chris? He's not answering my calls." She quickly explained her situation. Now that she was actually laying it all out it seemed silly. Pride shouldn't have to monitor their private lives she thought until he came back with an equally concerning statement.

"I've got no idea where he is." He started in earnest. Pride had been waiting at Chris' house for the past four hours in anticipation of their nightly routine, of surrogate father, grieving son. Under normal circumstances it wasn't so unusual that LaSalle wouldn't be there. He was grown man after all. It wasn't like he needed a baby-sitter but even Pride had to admit he was mildly concerned. LaSalle was so damn vulnerable right now.

"Let's give him until morning." Pride decided. "If we don't hear from him, I'll put out a BOLO and have Patton starting tracking his GPS.

Brody felt her gut twist. Morning was still hours away. Surely, Chris wasn't out somewhere tying one on? Maybe he just needed time to think? Biting down on her lip she decided to wait a little while longer.

* * *

LaSalle blinked prompting fuzziness to form all around him. His head was still swimming. It took him a moment to figure out that his hands were bound behind his back with a zip tie. He must have let out a groan because the next thing he knew Messier was pulling him to a seated position against a hard metal wall.

They were in a storage container he concluded after taking several minutes to survey his surroundings.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Messier was now kneeling beside him.

Chris blinked a few more times trying to will the dizzy feeling in head away. "You really think you're going to get away with this?" he asked. Pride already knew there was mole in the department it was only a matter of time before he figured out that it was Messier.

"I already have," Messier pushed to his feet and picked up a handful of the stolen Iraqi jewels from a box that was sitting on the floor. "And for the record, that truck Baitfish hijacked, the artifacts inside were mine."

Chris had to think for a minute. Messier was referring the truck in the police impound lot.

So that's why Messier kept him prodding to leave. It all made sense. "So, I guess you were disappointed then when I opened up that panel and found those missing jewels."

"You cost me a lot of money that day." Messier came back.

Chris shook his head. He should have known something was up, when Messier started to ask questions that pertained to his well-being and peace of mind. "So your partner, Theo, was he even real?"

"Most definitely. Where do you think I got the idea to goad you into taking down Baitfish?"

LaSalle's eyes narrowed, though he knew he was responsible for his own actions, he hated the idea that he had been set up.

"For what it's worth, you did me a huge favor and I appreciate that."

"So, what now?" Chris tossed out.

Messier scratched his chin. "I'm gonna collect what's rightly mine and fly to the Cayman Islands. But as for you, come tomorrow, Pride's gonna find you in your truck with a bullet in your head, a victim of a tragic suicide."

Chris shook his head. "Ain't no way in hell Pride'll ever believe that."

Messier stuck his bottom lip out. "Maybe not, but given your family history and the list of tragic recent events combined with your recent behavior it'll certainly present itself as plausible. By the time he figures things out, I'll be long gone and so will you."

"As I said, there is no way you're going to get away with this." It was too simple of a plan. Even if Messier did manage to stage a suicide, Loretta would find the remains of the animal tranquilizer in his blood. Then there was a matter of his phone. He knew that King would use the GPS system to track it, if Messier hadn't already taken the battery and sim card.

"You remember the guy Warren you and Pride talked to the other day?" Messier countered. Warren was the man in charge of the ports. "You found him shot to death in his car."

"Let me guess," Chris retorted, "That was you."

"But it's currently ruled as an apparent suicide and it's gonna stay that way."

"Not if Pride has anything to say about it."

Messier smirked shaking his head, "You know what your problem is LaSalle? You're more loyal to Pride than a God damn dog. The man kicked you to the curb when your brother was arrested. Where was your so called King then?" Messier added. "And let's not forget that it was Pride's informant who shot your girlfriend. Now if it were me, I'd seriously reconsider who I swore my allegiance too."

Messier's smooth talk wasn't going to work this time Chris vowed as Messier pulled a large piece of gauze out his pocket and proceeded to shove it in the agent's mouth and quickly followed up with a piece of duct tape. When Messier was finished, he patted LaSalle's cheek. "Now, I've got to go out for bit but while I'm gone I want you to do some thinkin' about where your loyalty to Pride has gotten you. Then maybe if you're lucky, I'll give you the rest of the animal tranquilizer before I shoot you."

* * *

When morning arrived, Brody found her heart hammering and her stomach in knots. After leaving the café, she had combed all of Chris' known hangouts. She had even gone so far as to check the local hospitals and still nothing.

"Pride, I'm getting really worried."

"I'm right there with you. I had Patton put out the Bolo and check for the GPS on Chris' phone." The phone was either dead or someone had dismantled it.

"What about the GPS in the truck?"

"Pat's checking on it now. Why don't you meet me at the office and if something comes up we'll check it out together."

Twenty minutes later, Brody received word that ON-STAR had traced the truck to the Navy shipping yard.

"What reason would Chris have for going back to the shipping yard?"

Together Brody and Pride combed through the designated parking lot. The truck was nowhere to be found.

Brody ran a hand of frustration through her hair. "Where is it?"

Pride looked along the horizon, a pit growing in his stomach. "It's in one of the shipping containers."

Brody's dark eyes widened. "But there's over 90 acres…" She and Percy had already searched the acreage once, looking for evidence of Baitfish's so called "storm."

"And Christopher is in one of them." Pride touched his com. "Pat, get in touch with ON-STAR see if they can pin down a more accurate location."

"Already on it," The computer whiz answered. "They're transmitting the coordinates now."

* * *

Brody held her breath as she watched the Petty Officer in charge open the container, revealing the missing Black Ford F-150. Pulling out their flashlights, she and Pride entered the container, shining their lights into the dark cab.

Nothing.

They checked the bed.

Still nothing.

Save for the truck the rest of the container was empty.

Stepping back into the open, Brody clipped her flashlight onto her belt. The truck was there, but where the hell was Chris?


	16. Chapter 16 What If Conclusion

**What If Conclusion**

Messier? Pride was surprised when he saw the police captain heading toward them. "What brings you all the way out here Jim?"

Messier had think fast. He was on his way to get the truck out of the storage container when Pride spotted him. Damn. He had taken care of LaSalle's phone but he didn't think about Pride being able to use GPS to track the location of the truck. He needed to play this cool.

Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he thought quickly. "Got a call about another dead body out here. Dispatch said it might be that of a civilian. How 'bout y'all?"

Pride shifted his a gaze to Brody as an uneasy feeling formed in his stomach. He prayed to God that the dead body wasn't LaSalle. He chose his words carefully. "Brody and I are working on a case involving stolen contraband."

Messier had no choice but to play along. "Well that there's a mighty nice piece of contraband in there." He said looking at the truck. "Doesn't LaSalle drive some thin' like that?"

Pride smiled tightly. "It's an agency lease but yeah as a matter of fact he does."

"Speaking of LaSalle, how's he doin?" Messier added.

"He's fine. I've got him work'n on another case at the moment." the two men locked eyes for several seconds until in a stroke of luck Messier's phone rang.

"Gotta take this" Messier said fishing out his phone. "But, uh good luck on your contraband case." He added before nodding a cordial acknowledgement to Brody.

Brody held her tongue until she was certain the shifty police captain was out of ear shot. "Ok, so why did you just lie to him about Chris?"

"Before I spoke to you this morning, I went to see Cassius. He gave me some information that leads me to believe that Messier is our mole." Pride explained. He wanted to act on this new found piece of information but Chris' disappearance had taken priority.

"So you think Messier knows something about Chris?"

"Possibly, " Pride said. He hadn't been amiss to the fact that the police captain had seemed to have taken a vested interest in his missing agent.

* * *

Hot. The shipping container had become stifling hot. Though his oxygen supply still seemed to be plentiful he felt like he was ready to pass out. LaSalle thought as he began to grate his bound wrists up against the hard metal at his back. He had managed to root around enough to find a small nick in the metal, that would break through the plastic zip tie that was holding his hands captive.

Sweat was running down his forehead and the duct tape gag made it hard to breathe. In a little bit he might not have to worry about Messier coming back and putting that bullet in his head. The heat might do the murdering bastards job for him.

He just about had the zip tie he thought when the door to the container suddenly swung opened. It was Messier.

Stepping inside Messier pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blotted his forehead. "Whew it's hot in here." He shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket and moved toward his captive, "You'll never guess who I just ran into"

Chris winced as Messier ripped the duct tape from his mouth.

" Your buddy Pride's smarter than I thought." Messier pulled out the gauze allowing the agent to take in a huge gulp of air.

Thank God, he could breathe again. Chris continued to take in large labored breaths while Messier reached back into his pocket and pulled out a gun. LaSalle's gun to be exact.

Chris lunged at larger man, his hands free, from the zip ties. Messier fell backwards and two men rolled over one another, exchanging blows as the gun skidded across the floor of the container.

Messier might have been older but he was a lot heavier than Chris and what he lost in age he gained in power. Straddling the younger agent he managed to get off a couple of key blows until LaSalle took the upper hand. He almost had him until Messier managed to produce a loaded syringe, driving straight it into Chris's thigh.

Unlike last time, the syringe was full. There was enough M99 to take out an elephant.

Messier waited until the agent dropped, before pulling to his feet and picking up the gun. Strolling back over to the flaccid and slack looking agent he pondered a moment before taking aim. "You were a good cop and an even better agent."

"Still is," Pride appeared with Brody guns ready.

With Pride covering Messier Brody made her way her fallen partner. "His pulse is slow" she told Pride.

"In about another minute it'll be non- existent" Messier said as Brody picked up the empty syringe.

"What did you give him?" She growled as Messier surrendered his weapon and put his hands up. The police captain said nothing as Pride began to cuff him, infuriating Brody even more.

"What did you give him?" She repeated watching Pride give his former friend a shove.

"Answer the question."

"M99"

Brody whipped out her cell phone dialing 911. "That's a large animal tranquilizer. It's fatal to humans." By federal law veterinarians were required to carry an antidote in cases of accidental injections. They needed to get LaSalle to a hospital now.

"Why?" Pride demanded. He thought Jim Messier was one of the good ones. Over the years they worked side by side on several occasions. Now, Pride wouldn't say they close friends, but rather good acquaintances. The feeling that Jim had crossed over to the other side stung.

" They're out numbering us, Pride and their winning." It didn't hurt that Sasha Broussard had offered him a boat load of money to make certain that her contraband cleared the port.

"And LaSalle?"

Messier smirked. "You and LaSalle are just too good. You were just about to figure things out and I needed more time."

Pride grabbed the handcuffed man by his shirt front. "If LaSalle dies, I will make sure that you get the death penalty."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Messier replied noting that Brody had started CPR.

* * *

Six hours later, Meredith Brody sat staring pensively at the man she had performed CPR on for eight minutes before the paramedics arrived and had taken over. Although they had given him the antidote on site, but his body had been slow to respond. She'd watched them as they used the AED device in the ambulance to restore normal heart rhythm and for a moment she thought she had lost her partner.

All she could think about was how Chris had shown up at her house wanting to talk and she had turned him away. Maybe if she hadn't of been so caught up with her ex coming to call and wanting to defend her honor over an accidental fat lip she would have been there for her partner.

Loretta and Percy had been in several times trying to sway her to take a break but she refused to leave his side. She had promised him that the next time she saw him that they would talk. It seemed so silly now that she had gotten so angry over a fat lip. Everything that had happened over the last couple of weeks now seemed so trivial. It was if all should be forgiven or should it?

Standing up, Brody placed her hands on the siding, looking down at his still form. "Ok, you wanted to talk? Let's talk. Just because someone you loved was killed, it, doesn't give you the right to just to give up. Nor does it give you the right to hold everything inside until you explode. I still need you out there watching my back with you brain and emotions fully in tact. I don't need you to fight my battles for me. Now about Baitfish, I understand how you got yourself in that position where you needed to pull that trigger, I really do. But you have to understand my position. I killed 8 people after my sister died. My life was hell until I came here and I don't want to see you go down that same path. So, whatever deep hole you've crawled into I'm going to be there to pull you out whether you like it or not. I 'm not going to let this swallow you, I can't."

Damn it. She paused for a moment to swipe at her eyes. She swore she wouldn't get upset. Turning she reached for a tissue, not expecting to hear a reply.

"Why?" He swallowed in a dull version of his normally thick southern accent.

Brody whirled back around, trying hard not to crack a smile. She had just read him the riot act and it would seem utterly ridiculous if she were to suddenly fling her arms around him like a love sick school girl. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," he'd heard every word and hadn't missed the emotion that was clouding her voice.

"How do you feel?"

Chris tried to sit up a little taller only to be met with an almost unforgivable combination of a headache and vertigo. The ASU marching band was giving the performance of a lifetime in his head. "Like I've just been on my Krewe Kraw ten times over."

"You deserve worse than that." She said trying to play the part of the stern mother who's child had just gotten drunk for the first time.

LaSalle pulled his lips into a thin line. "I take that you're still mad about the fat lip."

Brody looked away for a moment. "What I am most angry about is that you preach that we're a family so much, yet you won't me in."

Well now wasn't this a case of the pot calling the kettle black? LaSalle thought as he flicked his tongue out over his lips. "What do you need me to do?" He asked not wanting to debated the issue.

Brody crossed her arms over chest. "For starters, you're moving out of your house. You can stay on my couch until we find your another place to live." It wasn't healthy for him to stay in the place where the woman that had he planned to marry someday had been viciously murdered.

"Ok" Chris nodded but what when your ex comes to call?" It would be a little awkward when the lover who wanted to beat the hell out of him suddenly showed up to find the rogue agent sleeping on her couch.

Brody sucked in a breath. Again, she was trying not to let her true feelings show. "Not that it's any of your business but I told James that I didn't want to see him anymore."

"Good for you." Chris smiled secretly pleased that she'd finally cut the womanizing playboy loose.

Brody's brow furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"You deserve better is all." He smiled into her miffed looking stare. "So what's next?" He knew her list of demands was going to include more than just him sleeping on her couch.

"You're going to some sort of grief counseling."

LaSalle rolled his eyes at that one.

"The woman you wanted to marry was a licensed therapist." Brody countered. "And you've seen what it has done for Cade."

"All the more reason not to go," Chris returned stubbornly.

"Then talk to Nate Getz."

"The NCIS shrink?"

"You know Pride can make you."

"But he won't"

"How do you know he won't," Brody challenged.

"Because that's not the way we do things around here. You see me and King we've got this agreement. I don't mess in his personal affairs and he stays outta mine." That was the way it had been for the last decade. If Chris needed Pride's help he'd ask and vice versa.

"Not this time Christopher," Pride entered the room with coffee in hand. " I've already made arrangements for Nate to get here as fast as he can." If Pride was going to have to spend the rest of his life indebted to Hamilton he was going to make damn sure the version of LaSalle that came back from all this was the same man he'd groomed him to be: first one through the door last one out.

Brody waited until Pride stepped out in the hallway to take a phone call to issue her her final demand. "Lastly, there's the issue of your clothing."

It wasn't all of his clothing just a few things: specifically that grey t-shirt and the black one. He'd been wearing the black one the night Savannah died and the grey one when he'd shot and killed Baitfish.

"What d'heck is wrong with my clothes?" He clipped wondering why Brody felt such a need to put him back together.

There was one thing however, he couldn't wait to start life as her new room mate.


End file.
